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Just don’t confuse them with SMRs.

When politicians tell the CEO of Radiant that they love small modular reactors, he groans inwardly and just keeps smiling.
Doug Bernauer’s Radiant is not trying to make SMRs. His company — a VC-backed startup currently in the pre-application phase with the Nuclear Regulatory Commission — is designing a portable nuclear microreactor, which is intended to replace diesel generators. The politicians don’t always know the difference, Bernauer told me.
The SMR-microreactor confusion is common outside the world of nuclear. While they are both versions of advanced nuclear technologies not yet built in the United States (all of our nuclear power comes from big, old-fashioned plants), SMRs and microreactors have different designs, power outputs, costs, financing models, and potential use cases.
Unlike SMRs, microreactors are too small to ever become key energy players within a full-sized grid. But they could replace fossil fuels in some of the hardest to decarbonize sectors and locations in the world: mines, factories, towns in remote locations (especially Alaska and northern Canada), military bases, and (ironically) oil fields. For those customers, they could also make power supply and prices more consistent, secure, and dependable than fossil fuels, whose fluctuating prices batter industrial sectors and the residents of remote towns without discrimination.
Perhaps even more importantly, microreactors’ small size and comparatively low price could make them a gateway drug for new nuclear technologies in the U.S., helping companies and regulators build the know-how they need to lower the risk and cost for larger projects.

The big problem with this idea? No functional commercial nuclear microreactor actually exists. Industry experts cannot say with confidence that they know what the technological hurdles are going to be, how to solve them, or what it’s going to cost to address them.
“My crystal ball is broken,” John Parsons, an economist researching risk in energy at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, said when I asked him whether he believed microreactors would make it through the technical gauntlet. “I’m hopeful. But I’m also very open-minded. I don’t know what’s going to happen. And I really believe we need a lot of shots on goal, and not all shots are going to go through,” he said.
Recent advances in both technology and regulation indicate that in the next few years, we should have some answers.
Private companies are expecting to conduct their first tests in about two years, and they are in conversations with potential customers. Radiant is hoping to test at the Idaho National Laboratory in 2026; Westinghouse and Ultra Safe Nuclear Corporation have contracts to test microreactors there as well. BWX Technologies is currently procuring the parts for a demonstration reactor through the Department of Defense’s prototype program — called Project Pele — and plans to test in about two years; X-energy signed an expanded contract in 2023 to build a prototype for Project Pele as well. Eielson Air Force Base in Alaska is commissioning a pilot microreactor. Schools including Pennsylvania State University and the University of Illinois have announced their interest as potential customers. Mining companies and other industry players in Alaska regularly express interest in embracing this technology.
The government is also quietly smoothing the way, removing barriers to make those tests possible. On March 4, the Nuclear Regulatory Commission released a new draft of licensing rules that will shape the future for these microreactors, and early March’s emergency spending bill included more than $2.5 billion repurposed for investment in a domestic supply chain of the type of nuclear fuel most advanced reactors will require.
“If we are truly committed as a nation to sticking to our climate goals, then we will absolutely get to a place where there are a bunch of microreactors replacing otherwise difficult to decarbonize sectors and applications,” said Kathryn Huff, the head of the office of nuclear energy at the Department of Energy.
Eric Gimon, a senior fellow at the nonprofit Energy Innovation, was a microreactor skeptic until about a month ago. His own recent research has made him far more optimistic that these microreactors might actually be technologically feasible, he told me when I reached out for an honest critique. “If they can make (the microreactors) work, it’s attractive,” he said. “There are a lot of industrial players that are going to want to buy them.”
“If your goal is to produce power at 4 cents per kilowatt hour, why would you buy any power that’s way more expensive than what you need? You do it because if that adds diversity to the portfolio and less variance, then you can get an overall portfolio that is lower cost or a lower risk for the same cost,” he told me.
Everyone I spoke to in the industry began our conversation with the same analogy: In the world of nuclear, full-size power plants are to airports what microreactors are to airplanes. Just as it's easier to build and regulate an airplane than an entire airport, in theory the microreactors should be built in a factory, regulated and licensed in the factory, and then rented out to or sold to the end user. An airport requires approvals specific to the construction site, a huge team of people employed for a long time to construct it and then another team to maintain it, and complicated financing based on the idea that the airport could be used for 50 or more years; a full-scale nuclear plant is the same. An airplane can basically be ordered online; a microreactor should be the same.
“They are sized to be similar to that kind of scope, where you could really consolidate a lot of the chemical and manufacturing oversight to a single location rather than moving thousands of people to a construction site,” Huff told me.
Microreactors should produce relatively small amounts of power (a maximum of 10-20 megawatts) and lots of heat with a tiny amount of nuclear fuel. They are usually portable, and if they aren’t portable they require a limited amount of construction or installation. Because it should not be possible to handle the fuel once it leaves the factory (most of the proposed reactor designs set the fuel deep into a dense, inaccessible matrix), these reactors wouldn’t require the same safety and security measures on site as a nuclear power plant. They’re easily operated or managed by people without nuclear expertise, and their safety design — called passive safety — should make it technically impossible for a reactor to meltdown.
“The excess reactivity is so small that you actually can’t get the reactor hot enough that you could start damaging the fuel. That’s something unique about the microreactor that would not necessarily be true for other types of nuclear,” Jeff Waksman, the program manager for the Department of Defense’s Strategic Capabilities Office, told me.
Microreactors should also cost on the order of tens of millions of dollars, not hundreds. That’s low enough that a company, university, town, or other similarly-sized entity could buy one or more of them. Because they’re cheaper than traditional nuclear, they don’t require lenders to take big risks on money committed over a very long period of time. If a mining company wanted to replace a diesel generator with one of these, they should be able to finance it in exactly the same way (a loan from the bank, for example). This makes their financial logic quite different from SMRs, which can suffer from some of the same problems as full-size nuclear power plants (see: NuScale’s recent setbacks).
“All of the things that contribute to a faster innovation cycle are true for microreactors compared to larger reactors. So you can just — build one,” said Rachel Slaybaugh, a partner at DCVC and a board member at Radiant, Fervo Energy, and Fourth Power.
Because microreactors max out at around 20 megawatts of energy, the economies of scale that eventually bring down energy prices for full-scale nuclear power can’t be replicated. While Jigar Shah, the director of the loan programs office at the DOE, speculated in a recent interview that costs might eventually go just below 10 cents per kilowatt hour, Parsons is skeptical that anyone could provide a practical cost estimate. It’s absolutely going to cost more than either large reactors or SMRs, Parsons said.
But cost comparisons to other types of nuclear technology aren’t practical, according to Slaybaugh. “You are going to be able to command a cost parity with diesel generators. It’s easy to get to a point where they make financial sense,” she said. “You can see why someone would pick one: This is not making noise, it’s not making local air pollution, you don’t have to deal with the diesel logistics complexity. You sell it at price parity, and maybe the first few customers pay a premium because they are excited about it.”
That premium price for the initial technology is the largest hurdle raised by every single person I spoke with, from the DOE to analysts and researchers to the different microreactor companies.
But there is one customer already inclined to pay a substantial premium: the Department of Defense. The U.S. military has greater resiliency and security needs than other consumers when it comes to its power supply, making the cost of microreactors more palatable. (And it doesn’t hurt that the taxpayer already foots the bill for enormous defense contracts, including for aircraft carriers and submarines powered by nuclear reactors). It’s common for technological innovations (think the internet, GPS, advanced prosthetics) to begin with the military and then expand outward to the consumer. Project Pele and the requests for proposals at Eielson Air Force Base both indicate that the pathway might be one for microreactors, according to Parsons.
For the president of BWXT Advanced Technologies, the Department of Defense’s decision to commission his company’s microreactor for Project Pele removed his last doubts that these microreactors would eventually be built. “The DOD being the first mover has extreme advantage for the country, and for eventually the commercial industry,” Joseph Miller told me. “The first mover was the barrier, and now it’s just 1,000 things that we’re working on all day every day to make it real, and there’s no gotcha out there that I see. That wasn’t the case when we were doing the design work, but now we’re making procurements to be able to assemble and deliver the reactor.”
Regardless of whether Miller’s optimism is well-founded, the experience gained in trying to make them happen is invaluable for a nuclear industry that’s been stuck in the mud for far too long.
“I've been talking with the federal government about the fact that there’s broader value in terms of getting wins on the board for the nuclear sector and getting the industry more experienced with building new things in a way that isn't quite so complicated,” Slaybaugh said. “Let’s have them build a thing that’s small and kind of cheap, and then they can go build a bigger thing that’s a little more expensive and a little more complicated. Let’s get some real reps in with microreactors.”
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Whether any of them will hold up in court is now the big question.
Environmental lawyers are in for years of déjà vu as the Trump administration relitigates questions that many believed were settled by the Supreme Court nearly 20 years ago.
On Thursday, Trump rescinded the “endangerment finding,” the Environmental Protection Agency’s 2009 determination that greenhouse gas emissions from vehicles threaten Americans’ public health and welfare and should be regulated. In the short term, the move repeals existing vehicle emissions standards and prevents future administrations from replacing them. In the longer term, what matters is whether any of the administration’s justifications hold up in court.
In its final rule, the EPA abandoned its attempt to back the move using a bespoke climate science report published by the Department of Energy last year. The report was created by a working group assembled in secret by the department and made up of five scientists who have a track record of pushing back on mainstream climate science. Not only was the report widely refuted by scientists, but the assembly of the working group itself broke federal law, a judge ruled in late January.
“The science is clear that climate change is creating a risk for the public and public health, and so I think it’s significant that they realized that it creates a legal risk if they were to try to assert otherwise,” Carrie Jenks, the executive director of Harvard’s Environmental and Energy Law Program, told me.
Instead, the EPA came up with three arguments to justify its decision, each of which will no doubt have to be defended in court. The agency claims that each of them can stand alone, but that they also reinforce each other. Whether that proves to be true, of course, has yet to be determined.
Here’s what they are:
Congress never specifically told the EPA to regulate greenhouse gas emissions. If it did, maybe we would have accomplished more on climate change by now.
What happened instead was that in 1999, a coalition of environmental and solar energy groups asked the EPA to regulate emissions from cars, arguing that greenhouse gases should be considered pollutants under the federal Clean Air Act. In 2007, in a case called Massachusetts v. EPA, the Supreme Court agreed with the second part. That led the EPA to consider whether these gases posed enough of a danger to public health to warrant regulation. In 2009, it concluded they did — that’s what’s known as the endangerment finding. After reaching that finding, the EPA went ahead and developed standards to limit emissions from vehicles. It later followed that up with rules for power plants and oil and gas operations.
Now Trump’s EPA is arguing that this three-step progression — categorizing greenhouse gases as pollutants under the Clean Air Act, making a scientific finding that they endanger public health, and setting regulations — was all wrong. Instead, the agency now believes, it’s necessary to consider all three at once.
Using the EPA’s logic, the argument comes out something like this: If we consider that U.S. cars are a small sliver of global emissions, and that limiting those emissions will not materially change the trajectory of global warming or the impacts of climate change on Americans, then we must conclude that Congress did not intend for greenhouse gases to be regulated when it enacted the Clean Air Act.
“They are trying to merge it all together and say, because we can’t do that last thing in a way that we think is reasonable, we can’t do the first thing,” Jenks said.
The agency is not explicitly asking for Massachusetts v. EPA to be overturned, Jenks said. But if its current argument wins in court, that would be the effective outcome, preventing future administrations from issuing greenhouse gas standards unless Congress passed a law explicitly telling it to do so. While it's rare for the Supreme Court to reverse course, none of the five justices who were in the majority on that case remain, and the makeup of the court is now far more conservative than in 2007.
The EPA also asserted that the “major questions doctrine,” a legal principle that says federal agencies cannot set policies of major economic and political significance without explicit direction from Congress, means the EPA cannot “decide the Nation’s policy response to global climate change concerns.”
The Supreme Court has used the major questions doctrine to overturn EPA’s regulations in the past, most notably in West Virginia v. EPA, which ruled that President Obama’s Clean Power Plan failed this constitutional test. But that case was not about EPA’s authority to regulate greenhouse gases, the court solely struck down the particular approach the EPA took to those regulations. Nevertheless, the EPA now argues that any climate regulation at all would be a violation.
The EPA’s final argument is about the “futility” of vehicle emissions standards. It echoes a portion of the first justification, arguing that the point alone is enough of a reason to revoke the endangerment finding absent any other reason.
The endangerment finding had “severed the consideration of endangerment from the consideration of contribution” of emissions, the agency wrote. The Clean Air Act “instructs the EPA to regulate in furtherance of public health and welfare, not to reduce emissions regardless [of] whether such reductions have any material health and welfare impact.”
Funnily enough, to reach this conclusion, the agency had to use climate models developed by past administrations, including the EPA’s Optimization Model for reducing Emissions of GHGs from Automobiles, as well as some developed by outside scientists, such as the Finite amplitude Impulse Response climate emulator model — though it did so begrudgingly.
The agency “recognizes that there is still significant dispute regarding climate science and modeling,” it wrote. “However, the EPA is utilizing the climate modeling provided within this section to help illustrate” that zero-ing out emissions from vehicles “would not materially address the health and welfare dangers attributed to global climate change concerns in the Endangerment Finding.”
I have yet to hear back from outside experts about the EPA’s modeling here, so I can’t say what assumptions the agency made to reach this conclusion or estimate how well it will hold up to scrutiny. We’ll be talking to more legal scholars and scientists in the coming days as they digest the rule and dig into which of these arguments — if any — has a chance to prevail.
The state is poised to join a chorus of states with BYO energy policies.
With the backlash to data center development growing around the country, some states are launching a preemptive strike to shield residents from higher energy costs and environmental impacts.
A bill wending through the Washington State legislature would require data centers to pick up the tab for all of the costs associated with connecting them to the grid. It echoes laws passed in Oregon and Minnesota last year, and others currently under consideration in Florida, Georgia, Illinois, and Delaware.
Several of these bills, including Washington’s, also seek to protect state climate goals by ensuring that new or expanded data centers are powered by newly built, zero-emissions power plants. It’s a strategy that energy wonks have started referring to as BYONCE — bring your own new clean energy. Almost all of the bills also demand more transparency from data center companies about their energy and water use.
This list of state bills is by no means exhaustive. Governors in New York and Pennsylvania have declared their intent to enact similar policies this year. At least six states, including New York and Georgia, are also considering total moratoria on new data centers while regulators study the potential impacts of a computing boom.
“Potential” is a key word here. One of the main risks lawmakers are trying to circumvent is that utilities might pour money into new infrastructure to power data centers that are never built, built somewhere else, or don’t need as much energy as they initially thought.
“There’s a risk that there’s a lot of speculation driving the AI data center boom,” Emily Moore, the senior director of the climate and energy program at the nonprofit Sightline Institute, told me. “If the load growth projections — which really are projections at this point — don’t materialize, ratepayers could be stuck holding the bag for grid investments that utilities have made to serve data centers.”
Washington State, despite being in the top 10 states for data center concentration, has not exactly been a hotbed of opposition to the industry. According to Heatmap Pro data, there are no moratoria or restrictive ordinances on data centers in the state. Rural communities in Eastern Washington have also benefited enormously from hosting data centers from the earlier tech boom, using the tax revenue to fund schools, hospitals, municipal buildings, and recreation centers.
Still, concern has started to bubble up. A ProPublica report in 2024 suggested that data centers were slowing the state’s clean energy progress. It also described a contentious 2023 utility commission meeting in Grant County, which has the highest concentration of data centers in the state, where farmers and tech workers fought over rising energy costs.
But as with elsewhere in the country, it’s the eye-popping growth forecasts that are scaring people the most. Last year, the Northwest Power and Conservation Council, a group that oversees electricity planning in the region, estimated that data centers and chip fabricators could add somewhere between 1,400 megawatts and 4,500 megawatts of demand by 2030. That’s similar to saying that between one and four cities the size of Seattle will hook up to the region’s grid in the next four years.
In the face of such intimidating demand growth, Washington Governor Bob Ferguson convened a Data Center Working Group last year — made up of state officials as well as advisors from electric utilities, environmental groups, labor, and industry — to help the state formulate a game plan. After meeting for six months, the group published a report in December finding that among other things, the data center boom will challenge the state’s efforts to decarbonize its energy systems.
A supplemental opinion provided by the Washington Department of Ecology also noted that multiple data center developers had submitted proposals to use fossil fuels as their main source of power. While the state’s clean energy law requires all electricity to be carbon neutral by 2030, “very few data center developers are proposing to use clean energy to meet their energy needs over the next five years,” the department said.
The report’s top three recommendations — to maintain the integrity of Washington’s climate laws, strengthen ratepayer protections, and incentivize load flexibility and best practices for energy efficiency — are all incorporated into the bill now under discussion in the legislature. The full list was not approved by unanimous vote, however, and many of the dissenting voices are now opposing the data center bill in the legislature or asking for significant revisions.
Dan Diorio, the vice president of state policy for the Data Center Coalition, an industry trade group, warned lawmakers during a hearing on the bill that it would “significantly impact the competitiveness and viability of the Washington market,” putting jobs and tax revenue at risk. He argued that the bill inappropriately singles out data centers, when arguably any new facility with significant energy demand poses the same risks and infrastructure challenges. The onshoring of manufacturing facilities, hydrogen production, and the electrification of vehicles, buildings, and industry will have similar impacts. “It does not create a long-term durable policy to protect ratepayers from current and future sources of load growth,” he said.
Another point of contention is whether a top-down mandate from the state is necessary when utility regulators already have the authority to address the risks of growing energy demand through the ratemaking process.
Indeed, regulators all over the country are already working on it. The Smart Electric Power Alliance, a clean energy research and education nonprofit, has been tracking the special rate structures and rules that U.S. utilities have established for data centers, cryptocurrency mining facilities, and other customers with high-density energy needs, many of which are designed to protect other ratepayers from cost shifts. Its database, which was last updated in November, says that 36 such agreements have been approved by state utility regulators, mostly in the past three years, and that another 29 are proposed or pending.
Diario of the Data Center Coalition cited this trend as evidence that the Washington bill was unnecessary. “The data center industry has been an active party in many of those proceedings,” he told me in an email, and “remains committed to paying its full cost of service for the energy it uses.” (The Data Center Coalition opposed a recent utility decision in Ohio that will require data centers to pay for a minimum of 85% of their monthly energy forecast, even if they end up using less.)
One of the data center industry’s favorite counterarguments against the fear of rising electricity is that new large loads actually exert downward pressure on rates by spreading out fixed costs. Jeff Dennis, who is the executive director of the Electricity Customer Alliance and has worked for both the Department of Energy and the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, told me this is something he worries about — that these potential benefits could be forfeited if data centers are isolated into their own ratemaking class. But, he said, we’re only in “version 1.5 or 2.0” when it comes to special rate structures for big energy users, known as large load tariffs.
“I think they’re going to continue to evolve as everybody learns more about how to integrate large loads, and as the large load customers themselves evolve in their operations,” he said.
The Washington bill passed the Appropriations Committee on Monday and now heads to the Rules Committee for review. A companion bill is moving through the state senate.
Plus more of the week’s top fights in renewable energy.
1. Kent County, Michigan — Yet another Michigan municipality has banned data centers — for the second time in just a few months.
2. Pima County, Arizona — Opposition groups submitted twice the required number of signatures in a petition to put a rezoning proposal for a $3.6 billion data center project on the ballot in November.
3. Columbus, Ohio — A bill proposed in the Ohio Senate could severely restrict renewables throughout the state.
4. Converse and Niobrara Counties, Wyoming — The Wyoming State Board of Land Commissioners last week rescinded the leases for two wind projects in Wyoming after a district court judge ruled against their approval in December.