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With mosquito-like mini-battering rams, hot dog-shaped floaties, and not a lot of battery life.

Last week, I took a train and two buses to an abandoned tuberculosis sanatorium on Staten Island, where I watched first responders pretend another Hurricane Sandy had just struck New York City.
For the sake of the drill, organizers kept many of the details of the fictional scenario the same as they’d been then: Emergency Management officials were told to respond as if a supercharged storm was causing devastating floods and stranding people in life-threatening situations. But the dry run also featured a major difference from the disaster that hit 12 years ago this month and left more than 43 New Yorkers dead.
This time, the city has drones.
It has drones with cameras that can read the logo on your jacket from 400 feet in the air and drones with sophisticated mapping software that can estimate how deep a flooded intersection is. It has drones that come on little leashes tethered to NYPD cruisers for continuous power and drones that are so small they can fly under beds and into closets and sound like dentist drills when they’re operating. It has drones that can transmit messages in 80 languages, drones with thermal sensors, and drones that can drop flotation devices into the ocean. It even has a drone that can break a window — the highlight of the morning for the members of the local press and the top brass of the New York Police Department, Fire Department, and NYCEM (New York City Emergency Management, pronounced “Nee-chim,” newly rebranded from the more generic Office of Emergency Management) who’d gathered to observe the exercise, which was touted as the largest-known municipal unmanned aerial system drill in history.
“Breach drones,” as I’ve since learned, look a little like crudely drawn mosquitos. Held aloft by four rotary wings, the $87,750 contraptions are affixed with rods on their fronts that resemble an insect’s proboscis but function essentially like a battering ram. Given the drone’s unsteady, bobbing flight and the way it repeatedly banged itself against the window to chip a hole in the pane big enough to fly through, I found the whole demonstration to be surprisingly entomological for what New York City’s first responders claim is the bleeding edge of its extreme weather response.
“We’re really just scraping the first layer” of what is possible, Louis Font, a citywide interagency coordinator, told me during the drill. As he put it, drones are “the Swiss army knife of the public safety world.”
There is a small problem, though: New Yorkers really, really hate drones. Actually, they hate all autonomous gadgets that give off a whiff of Big Brother. A security robot deployed in the Times Square subway station over the winter had to be guarded by two human officers around the clock to prevent it from being vandalized, and the cheeky New York City news blog Hell Gate proposed that bots like the NYPD’s crime-fighting “Digidog” are “the city’s most expensive punching bags” and teased, “we’re excited to watch as the situation unfolds.” Even the local wildlife seems willing to take matters into its own talons, with birds attacking drones deployed to Rockaway Beach over the summer.
The city acquired its first set of drones in 2018 and is now one of about 900 U.S. municipalities that have begun using unmanned aerial systems in its crime- and emergency-related responses. But with a police budget bigger than many nations’ entire military outlay and a techno-optimist mayor, New York quickly became one of the premier drone-wielding cities in the world.
It hasn’t been an entirely smooth journey, though. Plans to use drones to monitor private backyard Labor Day parties last year spurred privacy concerns rooted in a history of the NYPD abusing surveillance technologies and prompted pushback from local civil liberties groups. “We’ve got so many discredited examples of this mayor searching for high-tech gimmicks to solve real-world problems and leaving New Yorkers out to dry,” Albert Fox Cahn, the executive director of the Surveillance Technology Oversight Project, a.k.a. STOP, told me. “We end up spending a huge amount of money on largely unvetted vendors to buy products that simply just don’t fit the needs of our city.”
The question I wanted to answer on Staten Island was whether drones might be able to meet the needs of a city after a storm like Hurricane Helene or Hurricane Sandy. The overwhelming impression I left with, though, was of agencies that are in the awkward stage of a growth spurt — eager to use technology that will one day be indispensable but, for the time being, presents the risk of overcomplicating situations that would otherwise benefit from a more old-fashioned, boots-on-the-ground approach, with potentially both comic and tragic results.
Much of this is simply because of the physical limitations of drones. For one thing, they can’t fly in winds of more than about 20 to 30 miles per hour, making them pretty much useless during an actual storm (or in a Manhattan wind tunnel, for that matter). That narrows their use to two main categories: before a storm, as early warning systems, and after, in search-and-rescue operations.
It’s easy to understand the appeal of the former use. Scientists expect New York will get about 25% more annual rainfall by 2100 due to climate change, and the city has over 500 miles of coastline vulnerable to storm surge, with over half of its environmental justice communities living within its 100-year floodplains. During Hurricane Ida in 2021, 11 people drowned in flooded basement apartments, which are illegal under the city housing code and often used as housing by low-income immigrant families. Making matters worse, New York’s emergency alert system requires a voluntary opt-in and currently has just 1,281,938 subscribers — roughly 15% of a city of 8.3 million. Last year, the city comptroller further claimed that the notification list for people living in basement apartments reached less than 1% of its target population. (A spokesperson for NYCEM told me there has been a 35% increase in their basement subscriber numbers since the comptroller’s comments.)
The drones come in handy, then, because “not every New Yorker is on Twitter, not every New Yorker is on Instagram or Facebook, not every New Yorker reads The New York Times, the Post, or the Daily News, not all of them are tuned into our press conferences,” NYCEM Commissioner Zachary Iscol told me. “And so especially for vulnerable populations and immigrant communities, you’ve got to reach them where they are.”
This summer, NYCEM piloted a program using drones to broadcast bilingual flood warnings in low-lying neighborhoods ahead of storms — an idea Mayor Eric Adams had after seeing hurricane sirens on telephone poles during a visit to Puerto Rico, Iscol told me. The drones’ machine-generated Spanish translations, however, were slammed as “incomprehensible” by native speakers. (Font, the interagency coordinator, admitted the translations are still crude since “they’re robots” and told me the agencies are working to improve the messages.)
Carolina Salguero, the founder and executive director of PortSide NewYork, which works with the waterfront community in Red Hook, told me she fears drone-delivered storm warnings could potentially alienate their intended audiences. “Why would you believe the government if it’s dissed the community for this long?” she said, recalling how some Red Hook residents unwisely ignored warnings ahead of Sandy. (One can only imagine the added element of distrust that would come from a drone shouting those same warnings at you.). Cahn, of STOP, was also skeptical of the message’s delivery system: “The idea that you’re going to warn people with a fleet of drones is ludicrous. It’d take hundreds of thousands of drones operating throughout the day to reach the number of people that [NYCEM] can reach through a single text message,” he told me.
That problem of scale is also true after a storm. While I was impressed by the drones’ heat-seeking capabilities — operators could quickly find human actors and mannequins heated to lifelike temperatures during the Staten Island drill — the NYPD only had 85 drones in its arsenal as of this spring. Because connectivity issues are common after major weather disasters, drones cannot travel terribly far from human-toted hotspots, meaning the actual ground drones can cover to look for stranded, trapped, hurt, or drowning New Yorkers is relatively small. Drones also have a limited battery life of about half an hour and must repeatedly return to handlers to have their batteries swapped out as they conduct searches.
Sometimes it seems almost as if the city government is creating problems for drones to solve. A scenario where a window-breaching drone would be more beneficial than having a firefighter simply walk into a building feels like an edge case, and while a drone can inform someone in Mandarin that help is on the way, that “help” still ultimately takes the form of human paramedics, police, or firefighters. Font told me that drones helped supplement the rescue of “multiple drowning victims” in the Rockaways this summer by providing an extra vantage, but the systems were only deployed in the first place because of an unresolved lifeguard shortage. (Though there was excited chatter at the Staten Island drill about drones one day being able to tow distressed swimmers to shore, currently they can only bonk you with a hotdog-sized floatation device that inflates to three feet long to buy first responders some extra time — and that’s if you manage to grab ahold of it while flailing about in rough waters.)
Perhaps the biggest problem the drone exercise appeared poised to address was concerns about whether the city government could continue to function adequately under Adams’ leadership. Though the drill had reportedly been in the works for six months, mounting scandals and resignations in the administration made the large-scale demonstration of interagency cooperation conveniently timed. On Monday, less than a week after the drill, Phil Banks — the deputy mayor for public safety whose phone was seized last month as part of a federal bribery investigation — resigned. His departure leaves a gaping hole in the office that is tasked with coordinating the agencies involved in an extreme weather response, including directly overseeing NYCEM and the FDNY. (Banks reportedly was also at the forefront of promoting the city’s use of “high-tech devices, including drones.)
When I asked Iscol — who has publicly admitted to having had his own conversations about leaving the administration due to the ongoing turmoil — during the drill (i.e. before Banks resigned) whether he was confident that there could still be smooth operations between City Hall and its agencies in the event of a near-term disaster, he told me firmly that he was. “There are 300,000 people that work for the city of New York, and they’re showing up every day,” he told me. “It’s our job to show up and make sure they have the resources and support and the guidance and direction they need to be successful to deliver for New Yorkers.” He emphasized that “it’s business as usual for the agencies,” despite how things look in the headlines.
As for the drones, the commissioner seemed clear-eyed in assessing their usefulness. “As you do things that are new and for the first time, it’s an evolution — you’re always improving,” he told me. Drone advancements are “iterative, kind of like an iPhone,” and he’s aware they’re not all the way there yet. But “it’s not like we’re only using drones,” he stressed. “We’re still taking a multi-channel approach.”
Concerned onlookers will often approach Font, the interagency coordinator, to ask if he’s spying on them when they notice him flying a drone. He told me that he is always eager to show regular New Yorkers how the city is using the technology: “We’re a bunch of tech guys, so we really love getting into the nuts and bolts of it,” he said.
He expects, though, that eventually the questions and suspicious looks will start to taper off. The NYPD and FDNY already use drones in their everyday operations throughout the city; companies like Amazon have also started exploring the use of drones to deliver packages. Drones will become increasingly commonplace as the years wear on. Boring, even! So of course they’ll be used during extreme weather events, too.
“This is the world we live in now,” he said.
Editor’s note: This story has been updated to reflect the resignation of New York Deputy Mayor for Public Safety Phil Banks.
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A small but growing share of counties are targeting data centers, solar farms, and battery storage systems at the same time.
I’ve got an update for you on the data center backlash — and what it could mean for the governor’s race in Wisconsin, one of the country’s most important state-level battles in the upcoming midterms.
Last week, I wrote about how the Republican congressman and Wisconsin gubernatorial candidate Tom Tiffany was trying to turn the data center issue into a kind of trojan horse for slowing down renewables. Tiffany claimed to be anti-data-center, but he was really looking to apply new and stricter rules to clean energy development, as well.
Over the weekend, Tiffany said the quiet part loud. “David Crowley wants to cover our farmland with industrial-scale wind, solar, and data centers,” he posted on X. (He also started calling his opponent “Data Center David Crowley.”) Tiffany vowed to “protect Wisconsin farmland,” picking up on the idea — already used by the Trump administration to stymie solar development — that renewables threaten the integrity of agricultural land.
Now Crowley isn’t nearly as pro-data-center as Tiffany claims, although he has said the computing facilities should run on 100% clean energy. Yet Tiffany's accusation made me curious: How many local governments now see data centers and renewables as a package deal — and a farmland-threatening incursion that should be blocked? Back in March, my colleague Jael Holzman has covered how data centers are turning Americans against renewables. Are we seeing that on the ground?
Our market intelligence service Heatmap Pro tracks local laws affecting clean energy, batteries, and data centers. I asked the Pro team to look at how many local governments have now banned all three types of infrastructure — communities with what you might call a “none of the above” policy.
There’s mostly good news in the results for renewables advocates. The number of towns and counties that have blocked data centers, solar, and batteries remains small. As of late last week, 21 counties across the country have an active restriction or moratorium on solar, batteries, and data centers combined.
Another 10 counties have banned either data centers and solar, or data centers and batteries, but not all three. Six cities or municipalities have placed combined restrictions on the technologies nationwide.
The bad news: The number is growing fast. Most of these “none-of-the-above” restrictions were passed in 2026, and the overwhelming majority are in the rural Midwest and Great Plains. Kansas, Iowa, and Indiana account for most of the moratoriums or restrictive laws.
Not all of the restrictions are new. Although most of these multi-technology restrictions get passed at the same time, a handful of counties blocked solar and batteries first, then tacked on data centers later. Dickinson County, Kansas, for instance, has long blocked solar and batteries. But this spring, as the data center boom came along, the county’s leaders extended that moratorium to apply to data centers and all forms of energy development — including natural gas.
Overall, the scale of the trend remains small. Less than 10% of data center restrictions nationwide also target clean energy. That’s good news for renewable developers because the number of data center ordinances is surging. More than 530 data center restrictions are now on the books nationwide, and most restrictions have come in the past 12 months.
And what about the Wisconsin election? As of right now, only one county in America’s Dairyland has restricted data centers and batteries together. None have restricted solar, wind, and batteries. But Tiffany does seem to be tapping into a much larger zeitgeist. When you look at the stated reasons why communities nationwide are adopting these policies, farmland protection ranks high on the list. When it comes to permitting politics, in other words, farmland looks like the next frontier.
There are lots of reasons why that might seem like a good idea, but I urge you to learn from my mistakes.
All I wanted was to drive an electric car to the solar eclipse. But after the third consecutive charging port RFID reader wouldn’t accept my credit card and finding that the employees inside the attached Spanish hotel restaurant mostly didn’t speak English, I began to feel as though, just maybe, this hadn’t been my best idea.
Opting for an EV as a rental car can be an attractive proposition. For a longtime electric driver like me, it’s the opportunity to avoid car emissions even when on holiday, and to try out the experience in another country. For others, it could be a way to save money while on vacation in countries with even more expensive gasoline than America’s, or perhaps to try out electric driving before taking the plunge on buying an EV back home.
My advice, though? Don’t — at least not yet. The reason is that road-tripping on vacation is not only different from the driving you do back home, it’s also the worst kind for using an EV, especially for a newbie. The experience might lead you to believe, incorrectly, that the EV experience is just like this.
I admit, I had high hopes. Europe as a whole is far ahead of the United States in EV adoption, and its denser built environment means fewer long, open expanses between the kinds of cities that would have charging stations. Spain isn’t nearly as far along with EVs as the Scandinavian or the low countries, where electric cars are already a majority of cars on the road, or nearly there. But it is ahead of the U.S. So I figured driving around the country to see the total solar eclipse in a Peugeot E-5008 electric SUV would be a manageable task.
The first problem is time. Here in California, I’ve come to terms with the fact that driving long distances in an EV adds minutes. There’s simply no way to replicate the five-minute pump-and-go gas station stop, but when it comes to dealing with the slog of freeway travel from L.A. to the Bay Area, for example, I’ve come to enjoy taking a longer charging stop to breathe as opposed to making the best possible time on a car trip. On vacation, though, there’s no time to lose.
And it’s not just charging itself that takes time. Unless you rent a Tesla and enjoy the seamless experience of its Superchargers, you’re stuck with the same annoyances that have vexed so many EV early adopters in the U.S.: busted chargers, hit-or-miss credit card readers, and juggling a variety of phone apps to interact with all the various brands of charging stations one might encounter. It’s also, frankly, just mentally taxing to think about all this in a new country and a new car, the very opposite of what most people seek on holiday.
Driving abroad intensifies these grievances. In just five days of driving around Spain, I racked up five new phone apps dedicated to charging the car on different networks. (Electromaps! Movilidad! PowerGo! EnelEnergy! Zunder!). Sometimes this was out of desperation: I parked, plugged, and scanned multiple credit cards that the machine would not accept, finding pay-by-phone to be the only way to activate the machine. Of course, signing up for a new app is a 10-minute process that involves typing in endless fields of personal information just to add a few kilowatt-hours to one’s car battery. Not great when you’re already running behind, and doubly problematic if you had no or little cell service abroad and couldn’t download the necessary app at that moment. (Death to walled-off apps.)
Those chargers that did work typically ran far below their stated capacity, in the range of 70 kilowatts to 90 kilowatts of charging speed as opposed to the 180 kilowatts or 350 kilowatts they were rated to deliver. And when plugs are scarce, you have to take what you can get in terms of speed and amenities. I was overjoyed to find one that worked without much hassle in Basque Country — even though I had to ask one of the gas station employees to move her Volkswagen Passat that was ICEing a charger, and encountered an industrial stench from nearby petroleum production so strong I nearly vomited when I got out of the car.
The EV culture can be different, too. I’d hoped to charge at the plugs located in the parking garage of my hotel in Bilbao, Spain, but arrived home too late after eclipse traveling and found the lot full and locked. The nearby underground structure had plenty of charging spaces, but those were bring-your-own-cable chargers — something common in Europe that’s only now coming to the United States.
Despite the difficulties, the trip went off. We saw the spiritual experience of the eclipse through the cloudless skies of Burgos; we traveled around northern Spain without once having to buy gasoline at European prices. And while an inconvenient experience like this might be enough to dissuade someone from ever taking a chance on EVs again, it shouldn’t.
There’s a dichotomy in the electric car experience I’ve talked about ad nauseum. As detractors say, taking long road trips can be kind of annoying, and those annoyances run deeper in unfamiliar territory. But most of us don’t drive like we’re on vacation most of the time. We do our driving close to home, where electric cars are a better and more convenient experience if you can do much of your charging at home or work. Public charging still takes time. But in your own city and state, you already know the nearby ones you like and have all the necessary apps downloaded and filled out.
A more seamless time is coming, when charging stations are abundant everywhere and a simple, idiot-proof interface for plugging in is the standard. Until then, you’ll probably have a more relaxing vacation burning fossil fuels. Just don’t let that stop you from buying an EV.
Current conditions: Tropical Storm Moke sideswiped Hawaii yesterday just weeks after a weakened Hurricane Lala became the first major storm to hit the Big Island in decades • On the western fringe of the United States’ Pacific borders, Typhoon Saudel struck Guam and the Northern Mariana Islands over the weekend, bringing heavy rain and flooding • Temperatures in Khorramshahr, on Iran’s border with Iraq, are topping 118 degrees Fahrenheit, rendering the southwestern port city the hottest place on Earth.
With water levels in reservoirs across the American West at record lows, the Trump administration has directed Arizona, California, and Nevada to cut back on how much water they use from the Colorado River over the next two years. On Friday, the Department of the Interior imposed the reductions via a series of documents detailing a two-year and a 10-year plan to salvage the supplies from the drought-stricken river fed by snowmelt from Colorado’s stretch of the Rocky Mountains. As climate change has shifted snow patterns, levels on the river have dropped. Yet the seven states that depend on the water — the aforementioned three in the Lower Basin, and Colorado, New Mexico, Utah, and Wyoming in the Upper Basin — could not come to agreement among themselves on how to divvy up the dwindling supply. Instead, the Interior Department came up with a proposal that forced the Lower Basin states to pare back first. As you may recall, Arizona’s Democratic governor called the cuts “draconian” when the administration released its proposal in early August. The plan, which imposes short-term cuts while leaving a larger split for later, sets the stage for what E&E News predicted would be “a behemoth legal fight.”
When the Department of Energy announced a review last year of droves of grants the Biden administration had given for clean industrial projects, the nation’s leading green steel project appeared on the chopping block. Cleveland-Cliffs, the steel giant based in Vice President JD Vance’s hometown in Ohio, said it was renegotiating the $500 million grant that was supposed to fund construction of a modern, integrated mill that could increase U.S. steel production and allow the country to compete with China in selling lower-carbon material to Europe. More than a year later, the deal has finally been renegotiated. As expected, the money will now go instead toward upgrading a coal-fired blast furnace at the Middletown Works plant, Canary Media reported on Friday. Never mind the fact that Congress promulgated the money specifically for lower-carbon steel, making the shift “possibly illegal,” as my colleague Emily Pontecorvo reported last year.
Congestion costs on PJM Interconnection skyrocketed 43% to $6 billion during the first half of this year, up from $2.1 billion during the same period of 2025. That’s according to the grid’s independent watchdog, which last week warned that bottlenecks on high-voltage transmission lines during high-stress events such as storms or heat waves were now what Reuters put bluntly as “the single biggest driver of the increase in soaring wholesale electricity costs.” Across the U.S., July’s electricity bills were, in the frank words of Heatmap’s Matthew Zeitlin, “higher than ever.”
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Last week, the uranium miner Ur-Energy sent the first shipment from its mine in Wyoming, World Nuclear News reported Friday. That same day, the American subsidiary of the European uranium giant Urenco broke ground on its latest facility in the U.S., NucNet reported. Downstream, meanwhile, Standard Nuclear — a fuel manufacturer specializing in extra-expensive but extra-safe ceramic-coated fuel pellets called TRISO, which I have written about previously— just cut another deal with a major vendor.
I have a confession. Nearly a decade ago, I sat at my sister’s kitchen counter in Massachusetts after she gave birth to my niece, trying to write about the latest technology to come out from Tesla. Not yet burdened by its billionaire chief executive’s political baggage, the company was largely seen at the time as subverting preconceptions about the popularity of electric vehicles. Tesla’s erstwhile absorption of Musk’s former solar manufacturer, Solar City, only cemented the company’s status as an industry leader in producing and deploying panels domestically. The conventional wisdom, at least among some industry analysts at the time, was that any bet against Tesla was an ill-advised gamble against the lucky Mr. Musk. So, I wrote about it as a breakthrough. But the solar-generating roof tiles the company unveiled that fall when I was in New England turned out to be little more than a passing fantasy. Now Electrek has reported that the company plans to discontinue the product.

Say what you will about Spain’s solar records or America’s gas surge, nothing quite matches the enormous surge of power that is a new hydroelectric station. This week, Tanzania christened its largest-ever hydroelectric station, the Julius Nyerere Hydropower Dam, named for the country’s revolutionary first prime minister after independence. Mwananchi, the country’s largest newspaper, said the plant’s launch “opened a new chapter in Tanzania’s energy sector.”