Volts

In this episode, Panama Bartholomy, head of the Building Decarbonization Coalition, discusses the need to decarbonize buildings, the many challenges facing the effort, and the cities and states that are making progress. You better believe we get way into heat pumps and induction stoves. Full transcript of Volts podcast featuring Panama Bartholomy, January 28, 2022(PDF version)David Roberts:Fossil-fuel combustion in buildings — mostly natural gas for space and water heating — is responsible for around 10 percent of US greenhouse gas emissions. Getting to net-zero will require heating, cooling, and powering all those buildings with carbon-free energy.It’s an enormous challenge — or rather, a huge thicket of challenges. There are technical issues, political issues, public-opinion issues, and policy issues, all of which decompose into dozens of discrete issues of their own. To help me wrap my head around all of it, I’m eager to talk to Panama Bartholomy, who is, I promise, a real person and not a Dr. Seuss character. Bartholomy has been wrestling with building decarbonization for decades, at (in reverse chronological order): the Investor Confidence Project, the California legislature, the California Energy Commission, the California State Architect, and the California Conservation Corps. He’s served on a variety of boards, collaborated with various expert organizations, worked on climate issues in over 30 countries, and all kinds of other stuff, but if I tried to include it all I would never get to the conversation.Bartholomy is currently running the Building Decarbonization Coalition, a multi-sector alliance of companies, nonprofits, and government agencies working on buildings, so he’s up to date on where progress is being made (think New York and California), the biggest political impediments (think the natural gas industry), and whether heat pumps really work in cold climates (think yes, they do).Without further ado, Panama Bartholomy, welcome to Voltscast.Panama Bartholomy: Thanks, Dave. Good to be here. Long-time listener, first-time caller.David Roberts: Let's talk about buildings. There's so much to get into here, but I want to start with a few broad scene-setting questions. Just to orient us, tell us where buildings fall on the climate policy hierarchy of needs. What portion of the problem are our buildings?Panama Bartholomy: Maslow's hierarchy of needs for buildings and climate, I love it. We — by which I mean the building sector — come in right about 25 to 30 percent of overall emissions nationally, and about the same globally. Depending on the state you're in and the grid mix of your electricity, it may be a little higher or lower, but we’re right about in that sweet spot of 20 to 30 percent. One of the challenges is that in this sector, unlike industry or the electricity sector or even the transportation sector, you have millions if not billions of little machines that have a lot of consumer choice. You can't just shut down a coal plant and all of a sudden get a lot of benefit. You have to involve a lot of players in this.David Roberts: Yes, this seems like the decarbonization sector that involves the most logistics and the most high-touch human interaction. You have to think about sociology and psychology. It's a tangle.Panama Bartholomy: It is, and that's why I appreciate you spending some time in our funny little corner of the climate world. We need a lot more attention to it. Every time somebody buys a new furnace or a gas water heater or stove, they're locking in 20 or 25 years of carbon emissions from there. So attention is one of the key things that we need on this issue.David Roberts: In recent years there's been something of a consensus forming in carbon circles that electrification is the premier decarbonization strategy. When we look at buildings, is electrifying them the whole game? How far will electrification get us and how big is the remainder once you're done electrifying?Panama Bartholomy: We haven't seen a lot of good alternatives at this point. When you think about electrifying buildings, you’re talking about space heating, water heating, cooking, and probably clothes drying. You do have some arguments with people about their gas fireplaces and their pool pumps, but that's a pretty small amount, all in all. When you look at the alternatives, are we going to pump incredibly expensive renewable natural gas through pipes to power those? Are we going to replace the entire gas system with a new hydrogen system to do that? I don't think so. These are pretty low-level technologies, when it comes down to it, in the use of energy, and using expensive fuels just doesn't make sense either from an economic perspective or a climate solutions perspective. So electricity is the path we need to go down on buildings. They're making cold-weather heat pumps that can operate well down to -15 degrees, so here in 2022, we have much if not all the technology we're going to need for electrification of b

Arguments over carbon taxes go back as far as discussions of climate change itself. Economists have long insisted that pricing carbon is the most efficient way to reduce greenhouse gases. For years, they hijacked the climate discourse, with untold money and effort put behind proposals for various increasingly baroque pricing schemes, to very little effect.Over time, political experience with carbon taxes has highlighted a truth that should have been obvious long ago: carbon taxes are taxes, and people don’t like taxes. People don’t like paying more money for stuff. More broadly, carbon taxes are an almost perfectly terrible policy from the perspective of political economy. They make costs visible to everyone, while the benefits are diffuse and indirect. They create many enemies, but have almost no support outside the climate movement itself. All the political intensity is with opponents. (More here.)One response to this critique that has grown increasingly popular in recent years is the notion of refunding the tax revenue — giving the money back to voters. Various ways to do this have been proposed, the simplest being an equal dividend to each taxpayer. Some proposals have all the tax revenue refunded; some have a limited portion refunded. The idea is that the tax would discourage carbon-intensive activities, while the dividend would mute political opposition. In most of the proposed schemes, the lower half of the income scale comes out ahead — dividends are larger than tax burdens — and in some cases, up to 80 percent of taxpayers come out ahead. A refunded carbon tax is basically large-scale wealth redistribution from the biggest fossil fuel users to middle- and working-class citizens. This kind of “fee and dividend” framework is endorsed by the Climate Leadership Council (centrist/bipartisan elites), the Citizens’ Climate Lobby (left-leaning grassroots campaigners), and one-time presidential candidate Andrew Yang, though they differ on important details.The logic of the policy is compelling to proponents — and to many people who first hear about it — and they feel deeply confident that it will compel the public too. The evidence, however, is mixed. Do refunds increase the popularity of carbon taxes? At last, some field research.There are numerous studies showing that, in a polling or focus-group setting, the inclusion of refunds increases public support for a hypothetical carbon tax — see here and here, among others. But that kind of polling has not translated into victories in, for example, Washington state, where a fee-and-dividend policy lost badly in a public referendum in 2016.More to the point, because there have been so few fee-and-dividend policies implemented in the real world, there’s been very little field testing of the public’s actual response to it.That brings us to a new paper in the journal Nature Climate Change by political scientists Matto Mildenberger (UC-Santa Barbara), Erick Lachapelle (University of Montreal), Kathryn Harrison (University of British Columbia), and Isabelle Stadelmann-Steffen (University of Bern). They do something novel: look at public opinion in the places where carbon fee-and-dividend policies have been implemented. It turns out there are only two. Switzerland established a rebate program in 2008. The carbon tax reached 96 Swiss francs (about $105) per tonne in 2018; about two-thirds of the revenue is rebated on a per-capita basis, with everyone (including children) receiving an equal share. Canada established a rebate program in 2019 as part of its national carbon-pricing strategy. So far, the scheme covers four of 10 provinces, with more than half of the national population. The price was initially set at 20 Canadian dollars (about $16 U.S.) a tonne, rising to CA$50 by 2022; recently the government released a new schedule that would target CA$170 by 2030. The refund, or Climate Action Incentive Payment, is based on the number of adults and children in the household, with a 10 percent boost for rural households. It is highly progressive; 80 percent of households get more back than they pay.The Nature Climate Change paper looks at public opinion in both countries. In Canada, it draws on a longitudinal study, which surveyed the same residents — “from five provinces, two subject to the federal carbon tax (Saskatchewan and Ontario), one with provincial emissions trading (Quebec), and two with provincial carbon taxes (British Columbia and Alberta)” — five times from February 2019 through May 2020, during which time the scheme was proposed, debated, passed, and implemented. In Switzerland, the paper draws on a survey of 1,050 Swiss residents in December 2019.So what do these surveys tell us? It’s not great.Refunds don’t change opinions much; many recipients don’t know they exist In Canada, throughout the period in which the refund was hotly debated, passed, and implemented, public approval … didn’t change much. What’s more, opinions on the policy were divided primarily

Recently, there’s been a lot of talk in the energy world about the minerals needed by clean-energy technologies and whether mineral supply problems might pose a threat to the clean-energy transition. To hold warming beneath 1.5°C over pre-industrial levels, the world must cut greenhouse gas emissions in half by 2030 and reach net zero by 2050. To do that, it must radically ramp up production of solar panels, wind turbines, batteries, electric vehicles (EVs), electrolyzers for hydrogen, and power lines. Those technologies are far more mineral-intensive than equivalent fossil fuel technologies. “A typical electric car requires six times the mineral inputs of a conventional car,” writes the International Energy Agency (IEA), “and an onshore wind plant requires nine times more mineral resources than a gas-fired plant of the same capacity.” (The IEA report uses the word minerals to refer to the entire mineral and metal value chain from mining to processing operations, and I do the same here.)Power transmission and distribution require aluminum and copper. Batteries and EVs require cobalt, lithium, and nickel. Wind turbines require rare earth elements. And so on.In its encyclopedic 2021 report on the subject, IEA estimates that “a concerted effort to reach the goals of the Paris Agreement would mean a quadrupling of mineral requirements for clean energy technologies by 2040. An even faster transition, to hit net-zero globally by 2050, would require six times more mineral inputs in 2040 than today.”Some individual minerals will see particularly sharp jumps. The World Bank says, “graphite and lithium demand are so high that current production would need to ramp up by nearly 500 percent by 2050 under a [2 degree scenario] just to meet demand.”A clean-energy transition sufficient to hit 1.5° will mean an enormous rise in demand for these minerals.This fact has been seized on by a variety of people to raise questions about the speed and sustainability of the clean-energy transition. Are we just trading one resource curse for another?So I looked into it. It’s a complicated subject — each of these minerals poses its own specific challenges, with its own specific suppliers, supply lines, customers, and possible pain points. There’s no neat single story here.Nonetheless, I’ll try to summarize what I found, starting at the end, with what I think are the key big-picture lessons. In the next post, we’ll get into specific technologies and minerals.The clean-energy transition will be an environmental boonYes, it is true that demand for minerals will rise and that several of those minerals are currently produced in environmentally and socially problematic ways. This is a real problem — or rather, a whole nest of problems, which warrant concern and concerted action.That being said, it’s important to keep in mind that, even under the grimmest environmental prognostications, the transition to clean energy will be a boon for humans and ecosystems alike.It will certainly involve lower greenhouse gas emissions. The World Bank says that, under a 2 degree scenario, through 2050, renewable energy and storage would contribute approximately 16 gigatons of carbon dioxide equivalent (GtCO2e) greenhouse gases, “compared with almost 160 GtCO2e from coal and approximately 96 GtCO2e from gas.”If the concern is material intensity, energy researcher Saul Griffith has done some back-of-the-envelope calculations that put the transition in perspective. Here’s what he told me:Assigning all 328 million Americans equal share of our fossil fuel use, every American burns 1.6 tons of coal, 1.5 tons of natural gas, and 3.1 tons of oil every year. That becomes around 17 tons of carbon dioxide, none of which is captured. It is all tossed like trash into the atmosphere. The same US lifestyle could be achieved with around 110 pounds each of wind turbines, solar modules, and batteries per person per year, except that all of those are quite recyclable (and getting more recyclable all the time) so there is reason to believe it will amount to only 50-100 pounds per year of stuff that winds up as trash. That is a huge difference: 34,000 pounds of waste for our lifestyles the old way versus 100 pounds the new, electrified way. These are only illustrative figures, but they show that the scale of resource extraction in a decarbonized world will be vastly, vastly smaller than what’s required to sustain a fossil-fueled society. Close to 40 percent of all global shipping is devoted to moving fossil fuels around, a gargantuan source of emissions (and strain on the ocean) that clean energy will almost wipe out. In a net-zero economy, there will be, on net, less digging, less transporting, less burning, less polluting.The fact is, fossil fuels are a wildly destructive and inefficient way to power a society. Two thirds of the energy embedded in them ends up wasted.That inefficiency has been rendered invisible by fossil fuels’ ubiquity and the lack of alternatives. Now that a

Hey Volties! As you know, last week I interviewed Don’t Look Up director Adam McKay for the podcast. Then the talented folks at Canary Media’s Carbon Copy podcast (which you should subscribe to) interviewed me — about the movie, climate change in art, and McKay — and interweaved bits of that interview with bits of my interview with McKay.The result is the first-ever Volts/Carbon Copy crossover episode! They did an amazing job. Even if you’ve already listened to my interview with McKay, I think you’ll get something out of it. If you didn’t have time to listen to that 90-minute conversation and would prefer the 30-minute highlight reel … here it is!Let me know what you think and if you’d like to see more crossover episodes in the future. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.volts.wtf/subscribe

In this episode, international scholars Jason Bordoff and Meghan O’Sullivan discuss the geopolitical tensions that could be caused or exacerbated by the clean-energy transition, including supply constrictions in oil and gas and the geographical concentration of key clean-energy minerals. This episode is a great antidote to the notion that clean energy is going to make for smooth sailing in geopolitics.Full transcript of Volts podcast featuring Jason Bordoff and Meghan O’Sullivan, January 19, 2022(PDF version)David Roberts:When one contemplates the thorny geopolitics of oil and gas — with its century-long string of crises, conflicts, and moral compromises — it’s easy to think that the transition away from fossil fuels to clean energy will usher in a saner and more peaceful world. And that may happen, in the long term, once the transition is complete. But the road from here to there, over the course of the next few decades, is likely to be bumpy. Policymakers need to start planning for the predictable disruptions headed our way.That is the message of a recent essay in Foreign Affairs by Jason Bordoff, director of the Center on Global Energy Policy at Columbia University, and Meghan O’Sullivan, longtime foreign policy operative and professor of international affairs at the Harvard Kennedy School. Bordoff and O’Sullivan outline a number of risks the world faces in the short- to mid-term as it endeavors to ramp up clean energy and ramp down fossil fuels. Investment in fossil fuels could decline faster than demand, which would perversely strengthen the position of Gulf states sitting on the cheapest oil. Production of the minerals needed to build clean-energy technologies is highly concentrated, often in countries with unstable politics and poor or no labor standards, like the Democratic Republic of Congo. Processing of almost all clean-energy minerals is heavily concentrated in China, giving it enormous leverage and exposing world markets to economic or political upheavals there. Trade sanctions or tariffs could slow the spread of innovations. The US’s inability to get its act together could sour relations with the EU, which is moving ahead with ambitious, coordinated policy. And so on. Clean energy will eventually diminish the sway of fossil fuel geopolitics, but the transition will create its own geopolitics, its own tensions, disputes, and chokepoints. I’m eager to talk to Bordoff and O’Sullivan about some of those risks and what might be done to prepare for them. Jason Bordoff and Meghan O'Sullivan, welcome to Volts. Thanks for coming.Jason Bordoff: Great to be with you. Thanks for inviting us.Meghan O'Sullivan: Thank you, Dave.David Roberts: I want to begin by quoting your great piece in Foreign Affairs. You say: “Talk of a smooth transition to clean energy is fanciful. There is no way that the world can avoid major upheavals as it remakes the entire energy system, which is the lifeblood of the global economy, and underpins the geopolitical order.” In a sense, the whole piece is addressed at a naive view of what the clean energy transition is going to involve. A lot of people think there's all this messy, nasty geopolitics around oil and gas, and if we just subtract that, then you have a world that's running smoothly and at peace. Can you, at a high level, describe why people have that naive view and why you think it's wrong?Jason Bordoff: You describe the motivation for the piece very accurately. I recall sitting a few years ago at a round table at the Munich Security Conference, talking about Nord Stream 2, a pipeline very much in the news these days as the US and Russia try to see if we can prevent conflict in Europe. There was a comment that I remember: “Why are we spending so much time on this? It won't matter soon anyway, because the geopolitics of oil and gas is simply going to fade.”That struck me — and Meghan as well, because we've talked a huge amount about it — as simplistic. The geopolitics of energy since at least the Arab oil embargo in the early 1970s, probably much longer, has largely been about oil and gas, whether it's the concerns about OPEC’s control over oil markets, or Russia's gas supply into Europe, or anything else. So it's a hopeful vision to say, when we decarbonize and move away from oil and gas, those geopolitical risks will become a thing of the past. We were making two points in the piece. One is that, that end state of beyond oil and gas is pretty far away. There's a multi-decade period when you have the new geopolitics of clean energy layered on top of the old geopolitics of oil and gas — and even a net-zero world is not zero oil and gas, necessarily. But also, there will be new risks created by the emergence of clean energy, from critical minerals, to trade conflicts, to new zero-carbon fuels like hydrogen and ammonia that might move around by ship — a range of new issues that we want to make sure people are thinking about, because our concern is that those geopolitical and

In this episode, writer and director Adam McKay reflects on the critical and audience reaction to his movie Don’t Look Up. We also talk about making an emotional connection to climate change, some of the other climate-related projects he’s working on (or at least thinking about), and why he ended the movie the way he did.Full transcript of Volts podcast featuring Adam McKay, January 12, 2022(PDF version)David Roberts:The film Don’t Look Up, available on Netflix as of late last month, has become something of a phenomenon. It has drawn wildly varying, often quite personal and intense, critical responses. Its critics’ score on Rotten Tomatoes is just 55 percent.But climate scientists loved it. I loved it. And the public loved it. Its audience score is 78 percent. In the week of December 27, it broke a Netflix record, with more than 152 million hours of streaming. As of this week, it the second biggest movie ever on the streaming service (just behind Red Notice, just ahead of Bird Box).Audiences have ignored critics and embraced the film, which is not something you’d necessarily predict for a thinly veiled climate change allegory about the difficulty of grappling with bad news in today’s information environment, especially one with such a (spoiler alert) bleak ending. It’s not the first successful curveball thrown by its writer and director, Adam McKay. McKay first made a name for himself as head writer on Saturday Night Live. In the early 2000s, he formed a production company with partner Will Ferrell and wrote and directed a string of beloved comedies, from 2004’s Anchorman through 2010’s The Other Guys. But in 2015, he took a turn, writing and directing an adaptation of Michael Lewis’s book The Big Short, about the 2008 subprime mortgage crisis. It, too, was an unexpected hit, scoring McKay an Academy Award for adapted screenplay. His 2018 film Vice, about Dick Cheney, scored Oscar nominations for picture, director, and original screenplay.He has demonstrated that, despite what the chattering class often seems to believe, audiences are hungry to confront real issues. All along, he has wanted to find a way to make a movie about climate change. With Don’t Look Up, he finally figured out how. I’m delighted to get a chance to talk to him, to hear about what he makes of the movie’s critical reception, what his other ideas for climate movies are, and how he navigates the politics of speaking out on serious issues from inside Hollywood. Welcome, Adam McKay, to Volts.Adam McKay: Thank you, Mr. Roberts, for having me. I've been an admirer of your work for a long time, an avid reader of your writing, and it is a pleasure to be here.David Roberts: Thanks, I'm an avid watcher of your movies. So we have a mutual fan club here.[Don’t Look Up] has been out on Netflix for a couple of weeks, so we've had enough time now for you to gather some feedback. Let's start with the fact that this movie has gotten more streams than anything in Netflix history. Did I read that right? Adam McKay: It's a bit crazy. I was shocked by the response from audiences. Netflix uses viewing hours now as their metric — they used to use accounts that signed on, but viewing hours is a more accurate number — and we had the most amount of viewing hours in any single week of any release Netflix has ever put out. I understand we're about to pass Bird Box as the number two all-time movie [on Netflix], and we've got a chance to be number one, who knows. David Roberts:Who's number one?Adam McKay:It's a movie called Red Notice that just came out. It stars The Rock, Ryan Reynolds, and Gal Gadot. If you had told me that our ridiculous-slash-dark climate satire would be contending with Ryan Reynolds, The Rock, and Gal Gadot in an action film, I would have said, “you're nuts.” So it's pretty fantastic. More importantly, the moment-to-moment online responses have been incredible — just seeing people excited by it, laughing, a lot of people moved by the ending of the movie, talking about crying, having emotional moments with it. So that's the thing that's been really exciting is seeing this worldwide response to this movie, and a lot of people having the response of, “oh my god, I'm not crazy.” Really cool.David Roberts: Or at least, “we're crazy together.”On the other hand, there's the critical response, which has been … all over the place. I don't know what I expected, but it's been such a bizarre range. What do you make so far of the critical response?Adam McKay: I've never experienced anything like it. We test these movies, we screen them for audiences, and the last three screenings we had played great — people were laughing the whole way through, at the end there was great discussion. Then I saw those critical responses … and in fairness to the critics, I don't expect them to mirror a test audience. They look at it with different eyes. So with all due respect, but some of the reviews were so extreme and angry, and I was like, “whoa, what's going on here?” But

My last substantial post of last year was a summary of where things stand with Congress and climate. I ended by reiterating my confidence that Sen. Joe Manchin (D-WV), who has been such an impediment throughout the process, would find his way to supporting some form of the Build Back Better Act, the Democrats’ last and only hope of taking substantial action on climate change. Mere days later, Manchin threw up his hands and said, “I can’t get there — this is a No on this legislation.” So much for that prediction. However! As we head into 2022, there are signs that Manchin’s tantrum was less apocalyptic than it appeared. His objection to BBB — which, to be fair, was his objection for months; the Democrats just thought they could eventually get through to him — is that the bill contains a bunch of new programs that are only funded for a year, or a few years, and since they will inevitably be renewed (according to Manchin), the bill’s price tag is deceptive. He wants to include only programs that are funded for the full 10-year term of the bill, under the artificial budget cap he himself imposed. That would mean stripping a number of popular programs out of the bill. The process blew up because the other Democrats refused to believe that he was serious about doing so much damage to the legislation. However, as Eric Levitz writes in New York magazine, as anachronistic, stupid, and cruel as Manchin’s views are, he’s not willing to move on them. For any bill to pass, it will have to conform. Insofar as there’s any good news in this young year, it is that Manchin seems positively disposed toward the climate portions of the bill. “The climate thing is one that we probably can come to an agreement much easier than anything else,” he told reporters on Tuesday. Other Democrats have expressed confidence that the climate portion of the bill will survive in some form. This is in part because Manchin already stripped the bill of any sticks, anything that might penalize fossil fuels (most notably the Clean Electricity Performance Program). What’s left are $555 billion worth of carrots: grants, tax breaks, and other money showered on every form of clean energy, from R&D through demonstration projects through commercialization — very much including carbon capture at fossil fuel power plants, a Manchin fave. “There’s a lot of good things in there,” he said.Somewhat oddly, Manchin also supports some of the reforms to federal oil and gas leasing that are in the House version of the BBB. All of this seems to at least imply that he’s still open to some kind of bill. What he appears to want is a version of the BBB that, at a minimum, strips out the Child Tax Credit — which can not possibly fit under his cap on spending ($1.75 trillion), at least not when funded for 10 years, at least not if the bill is to contain anything else. The Child Tax Credit kept millions of children out of poverty last year and could potentially cut child poverty by almost half. It ran out at the end of the year, and now at least 50,000 children in West Virginia stand to slip back into poverty. Manchin is choosing to allow millions of children to suffer a little more based on vague and ill-founded worries about inflation. It’s ghoulish and unforgivable.Nonetheless, it is what it is, so Democrats will need to put together a diminished form of the BBB that protects the climate provisions. They still need to try; the stakes are too high not to. “If they can’t pull this off, then we failed,” John Podesta told The New York Times. “The country has failed the climate test.”There are no signs of any such efforts thus far. “There is no negotiation going on at this time,” Manchin said on Tuesday, the same day Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer (D-NY) said, “I've talked to Sen. Manchin numerous times during the break.” Oof. Still, also on Tuesday, a group of senators expressed renewed determination to get the climate portions of the bill over the finish line. "We're going to get this done, come hell or high water,” said Sen. Brian Schatz (D-HI), “and right now, we have both hell and high water.""Frustration isn't a strategy,” said Sen. Tina Smith (D-MN), in what I can only interpret as a direct attack on yours truly. “We have to get it done." Volts is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.The senators even made a point of noting that Sen. Kyrsten Sinema (D-AZ), who has been such a problem on other parts of the bill, is “nothing but supportive of the climate provisions here," as Schatz put it. Schumer, as usual, seems determined to press on. He said, “I intend to hold a vote in the Senate on BBB, and we’ll keep voting until we get a bill passed.” Good, I guess?Meanwhile, what Senate Dems are actually moving forward on is some kind of filibuster reform or exemption intended to enable them to pass a voting rights bill without Republicans. In a letter to colleagues, Schumer said:Over the com

In this episode, messaging expert Anat Shenker-Osorio — a researcher, campaigner, author, and speaker — discusses the elements of an effective message, what’s required to spread messages, and the right way to test whether they’re working. We also get into the best way to craft climate messages and the current debate over “popularism.”Full transcript of Volts podcast featuring Anat Shenker-Osorio, December 20, 2021(PDF version)David Roberts:People involved with politics are obsessed with messaging: what to say, and how to say it, to sway voters or politicians to their side. Everyone has strong opinions about messaging, but almost everyone’s opinions are drawn from their personal experiences, preferences, and priors, which are rarely reliable guides to what works in practice. There are, however, people down in the trenches doing real message testing in the field, as part of real grassroots campaigns, like Anat Shenker-Osorio, head of ASO Communications and author of the book Don't Buy It: The Trouble with Talking Nonsense about the Economy. She helps campaigns communicate for a living, and she discusses the lessons learned from successful campaigns on her podcast Words to Win By. Shenker-Osorio is a co-founder of the Race-Class Narrative project, which is developing a coherent response to America’s familiar racial dog-whistle politics. She has advised several environmental campaigns and done a lot of thinking about the right way to message around climate change, as well as its place in the race-class narrative. As long-time readers know, I have a love-hate relationship with the subject of messaging, so I’m happy to dig in with Anat to figure out what we really know about good and bad message testing, the elements of a good message, how to actually get messages to voters, and how to talk about climate change in a compelling way. Without further ado, welcome, Anat, to Volts. Thanks for coming on.Anat Shenker-Osorio: Thanks for having me.David Roberts: I'm excited to talk about messaging. I want to start with a distinction. The side of messaging that people think about most often is word selection: choosing your words, slogans, catchphrases, and verbiage for your ads. But the other side of messaging is about the infrastructure that allows you to get the messages you've developed to voters: the spokespeople, institutions, media outlets, social media pages, civic groups, all the mechanisms that allow those messages to reach their intended audience. It's always seemed to me that it is on this latter side of messaging where the left is really getting its ass kicked. It seems like the right has a robust ecosystem that's very coordinated and capable. If they have a new message — you know, “Critical race theory is taking over schools” — they can get that to the ears and eyes of every single conservative in the country basically at will. The left, it seems to me, lacks that ability. What does it need to do to build that kind of infrastructure? Anat Shenker-Osorio: There are so many ways into this question. First, of course, I agree with you. That's something that I have remarked upon myself, frequently: A message nobody hears is, by definition, not persuasive. It doesn't matter how fancy your survey or RCT or field test, everything that you did to create that thing: If nobody hears it, it didn't persuade them. I think it is too simple a distinction to put those things in two buckets, and here's why. Part of the problem we have is, if your base won't carry the message, then the middle isn't going to hear it. Yes, it would be amazing to have an actual functional media that would properly do its job. Yes, it would be amazing to have a left-wing specialized media infrastructure of the size and capability of Fox News and OAN and conservative talk radio and all the rest of it. Yes, those would all be great things to have, and we would be much, much better off. But we do have the knowledge that a message is like a baton that needs to be passed from person to person to person, and if it gets dropped anywhere along the way, it is, by definition, not persuasive. Why was it possible for the left to spread the message “love is love” and “love makes a family” and with it shift culture, shift perception of gay and lesbian unions (what used to be called gay marriage and is now properly called marriage equality)? Why was it possible in city after city and then state after state to spread a message of Fight for $15? Why was it possible in the post-election for us to create content, with a crackerjack team of designers and artists, that said Count Every Vote? Those memes were viewed more than a billion times, and that's just a domestic US audience. There are times when we have broken a signal through the noise, despite all of the disadvantages that you point to — and those have been the times when we have properly attended to that wording question. So again, I don't disagree with your diagnosis, I just think that the way that we resolve

The year is coming to a close, which means us bloggers are obliged to do a year-end post, looking back on the year’s events and looking ahead to what’s next. I’ll be honest, I had second thoughts about whether to publish this post at all — my outlook is pretty gloomy and I don’t want to be a spreader of gloom — but I figure you pay me for the straight scoop. So here it is.The broad story is that, as bad as it sometimes felt going through it, we are coming to the end of the most productive year of federal climate politics that any of us are likely to experience for a long, long time. I’m not sure it ever really sank in with most people, including Democrats in Congress, but this was the last big shot. After the Build Back Better Act passes (if it passes), that will be it for federal climate legislation. After that, those of us hoping for climate progress will have to forget about first-best solutions and begin thinking in terms of guerrilla actions, in states, cities, and the private sector. That’s a very different mindset than the push for a centralized solution.Let’s begin with a quick review of the events of the last year.Democrats’ inevitably disappointing legislation limps toward the finish lineJoe Biden entered his first term as president in an impossible situation. He was swept into office on a wave of high hopes, given total Democratic control over the federal government, in the wake of an election marked by expansive policy promises and record voter turnout. At the same time, his majority in the Senate — salvaged by the two miraculous Democratic wins in Georgia — is razor-thin. Given the effectively automatic use of the filibuster by Republicans these days, absent filibuster reform, Democrats simply can’t pass bills under regular order. They can only pass bills through budget reconciliation, and even on that, they need the votes of every single one of their senators to do anything. Given that basic structure, disappointment was inevitable. Biden and the Democrats started strong out of the gate. Congress delivered the Covid relief bill. Biden issued a flurry of executive orders. Vaccination rates began rising. As long as Democrats were doing stuff, taking action, controlling the news cycle, Biden’s approval rating held up.Around July-August, two things happened. First, Biden withdrew US troops from Afghanistan, after which the Taliban quickly took control, sparking an extended wave of hysterically negative mainstream press coverage. (Coverage of Biden in right-wing media was, of course, hysterically negative on day one and has been ever since.)Second, legislative action ground to a halt and segued into months of frustrating negotiations, which continue to this day.They split their big bill in two, allowing a bipartisan group of senators to hash out a roads-and-bridges infrastructure bill (the bipartisan infrastructure framework, or BIF) while leaving everything else to a second bill. The idea was to give Sens. Joe Manchin (D-WV) and Kyrsten Sinema (D-AZ) their bipartisan achievement, but to require that they pass it alongside a Dems-only reconciliation bill, the Build Back Better Act (BBB). At the time, Democrats from Biden and Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer (D-NY) and House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-CA) on down pledged that the BIF would not pass without the BBB. The bills were a single package, they all emphasized. “It's going to be either both or nothing,” Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-VT) said.What happened instead is that the bipartisan group put together a relatively bare-bones bill and got it passed through the Senate. That put immense pressure on the House to follow suit, despite everyone’s pledges. The progressive caucus, led by Rep. Pramila Jayapal (D-WA), held together and refused to pass the BIF for as long as it could, but in November, it relented and the House passed the bill. Progressives voted for the BIF based on a promise from Biden that he could secure Manchin’s vote for the BBB in something close to its present form. By all appearances thus far, that promise was worth very little. Manchin showed no sign at the time, and has showed no sign since, that he’s willing to vote for BBB as it stands. In fact, before and after the BIF passed, he has done nothing but talk down the BBB, set arbitrary limits on its total size, and demand that elements be eliminated (like the Clean Electricity Payment Program) or radically pared back (like paid leave).Sinema has been frustrating throughout the process, but at least for now, it looks like she got what she wanted — protecting Pharma from price competition and corporations from higher taxes — and is now ready to vote the bill through.Manchin, on the other hand, has been nothing but a jerk, from the very beginning and at every stage. He’s been more of a jerk than is explicable even given the red lean of his state, even given his outlandishly corrupt conflicts of interest. He’s been a vain, inconstant, ill-informed font of conservative economic gibberi

One of the most devilish aspects of climate change is that it resists good art. But Adam McKay, director first of comedies like Anchorman and later of more serious fare like The Big Short, has cracked the code. Don’t Look Up (in theaters today; coming to Netflix on Dec. 24) is the first climate movie — the first work of art about climate change of any kind — to hold my rapt attention from start to finish. It is fantastic.One reason it’s so good is that it isn’t really about climate change at all. It’s about a pair of scientists, played by Leo DiCaprio and Jennifer Lawrence, who discover that a large comet is heading directly toward Earth and will strike, and wipe out all life on the planet, in just over six months. They try to tell people. It does not go well. Don’t Look Up attempts to capture, not so much climate change itself, but one of the most vertiginously weird aspects of understanding climate change: you know this terrible thing is coming and yet … no one’s acting like it. You end up feeling like the ranting guy on the street corner waving a sign about how the end is nigh. The movie is about having knowledge but being unable to make the knowledge matter, being unable to make anyone hear or act on it. By compressing the timeline to six months and making the threat a singular force, visible in the sky, it brings the absurdity of the situation to the surface. It’s hilarious, and if you’ve spent years banging your head against a wall trying to get people to pay attention to climate change, you will find a great deal of catharsis in the laughter. Before we get to the movie, a word on climate and art.Climate change makes for bad artBy its very nature, climate change is abstract, the sum of millions of observations and long chains of reasoning. It unfolds slowly, over the course of decades and centuries. Its effects are felt incrementally, across the globe, in disparate ways. In short, climate change isn’t a good villain. It has no plans or intentions. It’s not even a singular force, it is simply the descriptor we apply to the panoply of changes happening around us. The magic trick of good art is that it uses specificity — particular people, places, and relationships — to evoke universal human feelings. We have been designed by evolution to feel most intensely about things that are close to us, within spatial and temporal boundaries that are legible to us. We’re not designed to feel anything about a projected 50-year change in global average temperature.We can know and understand that forecast in an intellectual way, but to really feel it, to integrate it into one’s basic narratives and worldview, requires conscious cultivation. It does not come naturally; it is not universal.That makes climate change a lousy subject for art. Over the years that I have been writing about it I have been exposed to many, many songs, poems, documentaries, short stories, and novels about it. They are all like vegan food: the intentions are commendable, the spirit is good, it even looks on the outside like normal food, but the taste … let’s just say, it feels like I’m supposed to be eating it, and if I weren’t supposed to, I’d be eating something else that tastes better.(Vegans: I love you. Please do not write me angry emails.) So too with climate art. It runs into one or more of four main dangers. One, it can be treacly. This is most climate documentaries: swelling orchestral music beneath shot after shot of Natural Beauty Under Threat. Two, in order to compress climate change into something dramatic on a human time scale, it can mangle the science, as in 2004’s The Day After Tomorrow, wherein a key scene finds our heroes fleeing from an oncoming wall of, uh, freezing. It’s not that I’m a stickler for strict scientific accuracy in art, but once you make climate change into a disaster fit for a disaster movie, you’ve changed all the structural features that make the climate crisis what it is. You’re not illuminating anything about the reality.Three, it can be overly oblique, a metaphor for climate change that is so generic — “nature is good” (Avatar); “dystopia is bad” (Snowpiercer) — as to say nothing about climate change in particular. Fourth, it can end up being didactic or educational. Though it is by all accounts informed and magisterial, I could could not get through Kim Stanley Robinson’s The Ministry for the Future. After an intense first chapter, it became a series of white papers teaching me stuff I already know. If I wanted to read PDFs I’d just read PDFs. Climate is perilous territory for art. That brings us to Don’t Look Up.Don’t Look Up defies the trendI went into this film with extremely low expectations. I’ve seen the subject of climate change humble too many eager artists and storytellers to have much faith that anyone in Hollywood would get it right. When I heard the basic setup — an analogy that everyone in the climate world has pondered at some point — my expectations did not rise. There are so many ways a s

On Dec. 7, 2020, one year ago, I sent out the first Volts post. At the time, I was extremely nervous. I had left behind a stable job at Vox and had no idea if a newsletter dedicated to clean energy and politics would find any readers, much less readers who would pay. Over the last year I dug into carbon markets, transmission systems, lithium-ion batteries, and 24/7 carbon-free energy. I profiled new clean-energy legislation in Washington state, Colorado, and Illinois. There was a little philosophy and a lot of politics and policy. For the podcast, I talked to researchers, analysts, activists, and politicians. I have reason to believe Volts has reached the corridors of power, though Joe Manchin has by all accounts remained immune to its charms. I have a long list of topics for next year: clean-energy materials and recycling, embodied carbon, hydropower, hydrogen, and the possibilities for political progress under a dysfunctional (and possibly soon fascist) national government.Anyway, one year in is probably too soon to draw any definitive conclusions, but from what I can tell, it’s working. I am absurdly grateful. I try not to indulge in too much navel-gazing — mostly I keep that stuff confined to my neurotic inner monologue — but in this post I want to reflect a little bit on why I started Volts and what to expect from it in the coming year. And I want to ask you, if you haven’t already, to sign up for a paid subscription — or, if you have a subscription already, to purchase one for someone else, perhaps as a holiday gift. So: why did I start Volts? Two basic reasons.Writing for my people …One, although Vox gave me tons of latitude, there are limits to what you can do at a general-interest, ad-supported publication. You have to aim wide, to try to snare as many people as possible. Readers are likely to encounter your headline floating on Twitter or in their Facebook news feeds — you can not assume they know anything about you, your past work, or your subject matter. So every new piece has to be an introduction. You can’t use any allusions to your previous work. You can’t reference any inside jokes. You can’t take anything for granted. (I can’t count how any times I had to explain that renewable energy is good because it reduces carbon emissions, which is good because it slows climate change, which is bad.) And you can’t be too weird or idiosyncratic. Ultimately, though it is much more flexible than many publications, Vox needs every piece to be, at a basic level, a Vox piece. It has to represent the brand. That’s true for any publication or institution.There’s nothing wrong with that — Vox has a great brand! If you visit, as I regularly do, you’re guaranteed to find a bunch of good Voxy pieces. But I got tired of writing for everyone and no one in particular. I was ready to write for my people, to gather them up and take them with me so that we could learn together, follow ongoing themes and narratives, develop some in jokes, and shower the appropriate amount of love and attention on my dogs.I’m well aware that I reached more people at Vox than I ever will at Volts. My gamble was simply that there would be enough of my people, and that they would be generous enough, that I could make a living writing for them — just them, not any “average reader” or editor or boss or publication. I wanted to strip everything else away — the pressure to please higher-ups, the imperatives of attention-hunting in modern mass media — and focus purely on adding value, being of use.… rather than The ManThe second reason I started Volts is that I am, at heart, a child of Gen X: I don’t want to work for The Man. I don’t want to make money for Comcast, or any giant media company, or any company at all, really. I don’t want to feel beholden to any advertiser or sponsor. I don’t want to be a representative of any faction or institution.At Volts, I have only one incentive: to provide a service that you, my readers, find valuable enough to pay for. There’s no one here but you and me. That feels like an honest living. It feels like something solid I can hang on to in increasingly turbulent times. Volts survives entirely through subscriptionsI am editor-at-large for Canary Media, a relationship that allows my posts to be reprinted and reach more readers. But I live or die through paid subscriptions to Volts. There are certain things I could do to boost my revenue that I’m not willing to do. I don’t want to put content behind a paywall — I want to be as useful as possible to as many readers as possible, even those who can’t afford a paid subscription. And I don’t want to hassle my mailing list with reminders and special offers and fundraising drives and bonus content. That stuff feels squicky to me.But I do need to make enough money to live. And I’d like to make enough to be able to expand Volts and bring on new features and guest writers. So I’m asking you, if you value what I do here and are in a financial position to do so, to sign up f

When I first started looking into 24/7 carbon-free energy (CFE) — a company or city matching its electricity consumption with clean electricity production on an hourly basis, throughout the year — I intended to write a single post on it. That worked out about as well as usual.Below are summaries of and links to each of the 24/7 CFE posts. Above is a 24/7 CFE mega-pod, with the last three pods strung together into one podcast. * An introduction to energy's hottest new trend: 24/7 carbon-free electricityWhat it would mean to supply a company or city with clean energy for every hour of its electricity consumption, every day of the year; why a company or city would want to do that; what kind of technology could do it; what market reforms are required to enable it.* Is 24/7 carbon-free energy the right goal?Critics say that companies would be better off focusing solely on reductions in carbon emissions — after all, from the atmosphere’s perspective, no company’s emissions are more significant than any other’s. But proponents say 24/7 CFE accomplishes things beyond reducing carbon emissions.* The long-term promise of 24/7 carbon-free electricitySome new modeling of 24/7 procurement out of Princeton reveals what it will do to carbon emissions, how much more it will cost, and the innovation and development it could spark in clean energy. Volts is free of ads or sponsorships; it runs entirely on reader subscriptions. If you value this kind of explanatory journalism, please consider becoming a paid subscriber to Volts, or giving someone you know a subscription as a gift. I appreciate you all. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.volts.wtf/subscribe

Over the course of the last few days … [checks calendar] … er, month, I’ve been digging into the new trend in voluntary climate action: procuring 24/7 carbon-free electricity (CFE), matching consumption with production every hour of every day.In my first post, I introduced the idea and explained what motivates it and what it entails. In my second, I puzzled through the biggest controversy around it, which is about whether it’s the right goal at all — whether companies and cities ought instead to focus solely on reducing emissions (with no regard to who produced them, or where). This post will make a great deal more sense to you if you’ve read those.Today, in the final post in this series (promise), we’re going to look at some new modeling of 24/7 procurement from Princeton’s ZERO Lab and see if it can shed some light on the trade-offs among different procurement strategies. Then we’ll wrap up with some provisional conclusions.The modelZERO Lab models three scenarios for voluntary corporate clean-energy procurement, with 10 percent participation from the commercial and industrial (C&I) sector: no procurement (as a baseline), procuring for 100 percent annual match on a volumetric basis, and procuring for 24/7 match. Each scenario is run in two separate markets, California and the PJM Interconnection (an electricity balancing area that covers 13 Northeastern states and DC). Modeling in two markets helps tease out how 24/7 could unfold differently depending on how clean a grid is to begin with — high penetration of variable renewables in California vs. a relatively dirty grid in the Northeast.The model is premised on the idea that participating C&I customers aggregate their demand and pool their purchasing power, effectively acting as a miniature balancing authority. This may or may not be how things play out in the real world. Customers could act on their own, disaggregated and uncoordinated. The lab’s going to model that kind of scenario soon.Note: The lab did not model a procurement strategy optimized to reduce maximum carbon emissions. (Jesse Jenkins, who leads the lab, refuses to use the word “emissionality.” He insists on “carbon-optimized procurement.” Don’t worry, he’ll crack like the rest of us.) Modeling carbon-optimized procurement would have been a lot of extra work and the funder of the research, Google, did not ask or pay them to do it, so if you’re a wealthy corporate or philanthropy out there reading this, pay the lab to model it!Let’s look at a few of the findings.24/7 procurement reduces the carbon intensity of a company’s energy portfolioAs companies push their CFE scores higher — meaning, as they match more and more of their hourly consumption with hourly production of CFE — they reduce the carbon intensity of their portfolio. At a certain level of CFE, they reduce it beyond what they would accomplish with 100 percent annual matching.Take California. It already has a fairly clean grid — every company starts with a minimum CFE score of 64 percent, just by being located there. If a company procures the cheapest clean energy to match 100 percent of its annual consumption, its CFE score gets to 75 percent. There are still 25 percent of hours in which it is drawing on at least some fossil energy. As a company’s CFE scores rise beyond 75 percent, the emissions rate of its portfolio falls further, steadily to zero at a CFE score of 100 percent.(Another note here: “Current technologies” means wind, solar, batteries, and, at least in California, conventional geothermal. “Advanced technologies, no combustion” includes advanced geothermal and nuclear, along with long-duration energy storage. “Advanced technologies, full portfolio” includes all of the above, plus natural gas with carbon capture and sequestration [CCS] and combustion turbines running on zero-carbon hydrogen fuels. The reason the green bar never fully reaches a zero emissions rate is that there are residual emissions associated with natural gas and CCS.)PJM is a different story. It’s pretty dirty — participants there start with a baseline CFE score of just 22 percent. So a simple strategy of 100 percent annual matching results in a huge drop in emissions rate, though it only gets participants to a CFE score of 62 percent. Once again, as participants raise their CFE scores beyond that, the emission rate declines to zero. However, 24/7 procurement does not just reduce participants’ own emissions rates.24/7 procurement drives more system-level carbon reductions In California, if 10 percent of the C&I sector participates, 24/7 procurement would reduce more system-level (as opposed to participant-level) emissions than a 100 percent annual matching strategy, starting at a collective CFE score of 88 percent. There are two explanations for this. The first is a volume effect — participants doing 24/7 matching simply have to buy more CFE, and with more CFE, more fossil generation is displaced. The second is a timing effect — participants doing 24/7

Last week, I wrote an introduction to the hot new trend in energy: 24/7 carbon-free energy (CFE), i.e., matching a company or city’s power consumption with production of clean electricity throughout the day, every hour of every day. If you haven’t read it yet, you’ll want to check it out before reading this post.Today, I want to talk about a big debate around 24/7 CFE, regarding whether it’s the right goal for companies and cities to adopt at all. Exploring that debate will help us get our heads around what 24/7 CFE can and can’t accomplish.But first, a quick refresher. Here’s the idea: right now, in addition to generating electricity, renewable energy projects generate renewable energy certificates (RECs), one for each megawatt-hour. They can sell the RECs to any entity looking to buy renewable energy. For instance, a company or city that wants to go “100 percent renewable” can simply buy enough RECs to cover its yearly electricity consumption.At least two changes would be required to make 24/7 CFE possible. First, “renewable energy” would expand to “carbon-free energy.” Any generator putting out electrons without carbon emissions, including nuclear or natural gas with carbon capture and sequestration (CCS), would qualify. And second, RECs, rather than coming in month- or year-long chunks, would be issued in time-stamped increments of an hour, so that buyers could target procurement at the particular hours of the day when they need CFE. Eventually, each hourly REC would contain information about avoided carbon emissions, so buyers could tally up the carbon impact of their purchases. That’s the vision.In this post, I’m going to discuss an objection to 24/7 and some counter-arguments to the objection. Then, in my next post (yes, this is turning into 24/7 Month), I’ll look at some new modeling of the impact of 24/7 procurement and try to draw some conclusions. We’re going to have a good time.Measuring carbon is mostly doableAn intrinsic part of the 24/7 CFE vision is that each hourly REC will be tagged with a certain amount of avoided carbon. This will allow buyers to make procurement decisions that take emissions into account.There are some issues and controversies around calculating avoided carbon, though they’re not the ones I’m going to focus on today. Some carbon counters have proprietary formulas (like WattTime) and some are trying to develop open-source methods (like EnergyTag). The numbers they produce are not radically different, but they do differ. They vary in how they calculate the marginal (most expensive) energy source on the grid at a given moment — the marginal generator is the one that will spin down to make room when the CFE is produced. They differ in how to draw the geographic boundary of analysis, which can affect results. And other stuff like that. “To go from the generation data to the local carbon emissions data is not trivial,” says Toby Ferenczi, founder of EnergyTag, “because you're trying to model the flow of electrons. Until you can track a single electron through the system, there will always be different types of approximations.” There’s also the question of how distributed energy resources (DERs) are treated. Right now, grid operators tend to have little visibility into or control over DERs; energy generated locally, on a distribution grid, is viewed by grid operators as reduced demand on that grid. Bringing DERs more fully into the picture as deployable resources is an important long-term challenge.There are data issues too. If you look at electricityMap, which seeks to track the carbon intensity of every grid in the world, at every hour, you will see that there are still big holes, areas where utilities have not made the data public. New regulations and laws requiring grid operators to make these numbers available is another priority.Anyway, I’m not going to dig into these technical issues. I have faith that, if an hourly REC market gets going, these kinds of questions will be ironed out. The general sentiment is that it is more important to have a common set of numbers than it is for those numbers to be accurate down to the decimal. Instead, let’s turn to the more fundamental challenge to 24/7 CFE.24/7 vs. emissionalityUnlike air pollution, which concentrates where it is emitted, carbon dioxide diffuses completely into the atmosphere. It doesn’t matter where it is emitted; all tons are the same, from a climate perspective. One company or city’s emissions are no different than any others. There’s nothing about your hourly emissions that make them special.It follows that, if you’re a company that wants to reduce carbon emissions, the thing to do is buy clean energy on the dirtiest grid possible, wherever it will displace the most carbon-intensive energy and thus prevent the most emissions. If you take an international perspective, that will probably be somewhere overseas, in Asia or Africa; if you take a US perspective, it will be in states like West Virginia, Wyoming, and Ken

Hey y’all, just a quick thing today (as I work on my follow-up to Friday’s post).I was on Pod Save America last week:One of the things I talked about is the COP26 climate summit in Glasgow, Scotland, which wrapped up last week with a final agreement that … say it with me … represented real progress but fell short of what’s needed. Just like all the other COP agreements.I had a pretty deflationary take on the whole thing on the pod. Given the melodramatic rhetoric around COP26 — the same rhetoric that attends every international climate summit — I thought I’d briefly explain why I don’t think COP26 is worth getting down about. By way of background, remember that there were effectively two climate events at the COP, as there always are. One was the COP itself, the business of the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC). The other was a kind of climate festival-cum-trade-show, featuring governments, nonprofits, and private-sector actors announcing all kinds of new campaigns and initiatives alongside the UNFCCC process — and protestors marching outside.First event first. The Paris Agreement continues to play outThe actual business of COP26 mostly involved negotiators from various countries in cramped conference rooms hashing out technical details of elements of the Paris Agreement — about monitoring and verification, about who is contributing how much to the climate fund for poorer countries, about how often countries will report new targets, and so forth. None of that stuff was particularly dramatic; it was all the usual incremental, too-slow movement forward. There was some drama at the last minute when India — which had started COP26 with a bang, promising to hit net-zero emissions by 2070 — demanded that a provision on a global coal “phase-out” be rewritten to say “phase-down.” (This was disappointing, but keep in mind this is the first time fossil fuels have been specifically mentioned in a COP agreement at all.)Much was made of this and other shortcomings of the final agreement, but there’s a weird kind of disconnect around this commentary. What people seem to forget is that the UNFCCC has no real power to enforce anything and there isn’t the unity needed among participating countries to create a binding target with real consequences. This was the origin of the Paris Agreement: the realization that the best the UNFCCC could do is structure and publicize voluntary national goals and commitments. The idea was to do with transparency and peer pressure what decades of adversarial negotiations couldn’t: steadily increase ambition.A shorter way of saying this is that a COP agreement can’t make a country do anything. Whether and how fast India phases out coal has nothing at all to do with what its diplomat says in Glasgow and everything to do with domestic Indian politics, which have their own logic and are only faintly affected by international politics. The utility of the Paris process is that every few years it provides the equivalent of a giant camera flash, revealing where everyone stands. That is useful. International transparency and peer pressure can sometimes move national governments. But it is a mistake to invest any particular hopes for change in the UNFCCC process — it can’t really do anything. It can only illuminate what is being done.What is being doneThe good news is, we’re making progress. A decade ago, we were on track for 4° to 6° Celsius average warming by the end of the century, which would have been species-threatening.As this report from Climate Action Tracker shows, thanks to actions taken by national governments since then, we have “bent the curve” on climate change, as it were, and brought the average expected warming down to 2.7°C. That would still be devastating. But we’re not going to stop there. Progress is only accelerating. If every country that has submitted a 2030 carbon target in the Paris process — an NDC, or nationally determined contribution — hits that target, average warming will be 2.4°C.If all short- and long-term targets submitted thus far are achieved, it’s down to 2.1°C. In CAT’s “optimistic scenario” — in which all targets announced by anyone anywhere are met — the average is 1.8°C. As the CAT report emphasizes, that’s still short of the Paris goal. There’s still a credibility gap between what countries say they want to achieve and what they are willing to offer. There’s certainly no reason for complacency. But the trajectory is in the right direction. There’s still plenty of reason to fear where we are currently headed, but at the same time, there’s no reason to think that five years from now, at the next major Paris “stocktake,” we’ll still be headed there. We’re bending the curve and lots of forces and institutions are lining up behind the effort. Speaking of which …Climate WoodstockAlongside every official COP is a kind of international festival where everyone who’s doing anything on climate goes to talk about it. Bi- and multi-lateral coal

When a company or city claims to be “100 percent powered by clean energy,” what it typically means is that it has tallied up its electricity consumption, purchased an equal amount of carbon-free energy (CFE), and called it even.That’s fine, as far as it goes. But now, the next horizon of voluntary climate action has come into view: a brave few companies and cities aspire, not just to offset their consumption with CFE on a yearly basis, but to match their consumption with CFE production every hour of every day, all year long. Running on clean energy 24/7 — that’s new hotness. The list of entities in the US that have committed to 24/7 CFE is short: Peninsula Clean Energy (a community choice aggregator in California) has committed to it by 2025; Google, Microsoft, and the Sacramento Municipal Utility District have targeted 2030; the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power and, somewhat anomalously for this California-heavy list, the city of Des Moines, Iowa, have targeted 2035. Ithaca, New York, is rumored to be contemplating something similar.That’s it for now. But the idea is catching on quickly and drawing tons of attention. In September, a broad international group of more than 40 energy suppliers, buyers, and governments launched the 24/7 Carbon-free Energy Compact, “a set of principles and actions that stakeholders across the energy ecosystem can commit to in order to drive systemic change.” Biden’s original American Jobs Plan contained a promise to pursue “24/7 clean power for federal buildings.” That language has fallen out of the Build Back Better budget reconciliation bill in Congress, but rumor has it Biden may issue an executive order on the subject soon.There are already efforts afoot to standardize hourly tracking of clean energy and build it into markets, as well as numerous active discussions about how to update markets and policy to accommodate it. Anyway, it’s getting to be a big deal. It’s time to wrap our heads around what’s going on. Happily, it turns out to be a fascinating story with all kinds of twists and turns. Let’s dive in!A history of “powered by clean energy”To understand what “100 percent powered by clean electricity” has meant to date, you have to understand at least the basics of renewable energy certificates, or RECs.Originally, RECs were a mechanism that utilities used to comply with statutory requirements for deploying renewable energy. A wind or solar farm that generated 1 megawatt-hour of renewable energy also generated 1 REC, which was submitted to regulators as proof of compliance. Then voluntary REC markets came along. In a voluntary REC market, a power generator can “unbundle” its REC from the megawatt-hour of energy it generates and sell it into a market where it could be traded numerous times before being retired, or taken off the market. (For accounting purposes, whoever retires the REC gets to claim the environmental benefits.) Corporate, institutional, and government entities could purchase, trade, and retire RECS. The idea was that the ability to sell RECs as a second income stream would induce developers to build more clean energy projects. And it worked for a while, as long as solar and wind came at a cost premium and RECS were relatively expensive.But then, wind and solar started getting super-cheap: the cost of an unbundled REC went from $5 in 2008 to under $1 in 2010 (where it stayed through 2019, though it has risen back up to $3-$5 in the last couple years). Voluntary REC markets became quite robust but it became clear at a certain point that all these unbundled RECs were not actually driving many new renewable energy projects. A 2013 study found that “the investment decisions of wind power project developers in the United States are unlikely to have been altered by the voluntary REC market.” To their credit, corporate and industrial (C&I) buyers took notice. In 2014, Walmart stated that it would no longer offset its energy use with unbundled RECs, and many other buyers followed suit. The market began to trend toward long-term contracts — power purchase agreements (PPAs) — through which a buyer pledged to buy both the energy and the RECs (“bundled” RECs) from a prospective project for 10 to 25 years. That gave developers more confidence and has prompted a surge of building of clean energy projects. In 2020 alone, C&I buyers in the US procured 10.6 gigawatts of renewable energy, which represents a third of all renewables capacity added in the country. Voluntary procurement by the C&I sector has become a major driver of the energy transition.There are still plenty of entities buying cheap unbundled RECs and claiming carbon neutrality, but the leaders in the space are generally bundling them under PPAs. But there is still a problem with RECs, even the good ones.Volts is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.The problem with RECSWhen a C&I buyer purchases a REC, whether bundled o

In this episode, journalist and researcher Amy Westervelt discusses the history of the public relations industry in the US and the ubiquitous, if largely unacknowledged, role it has played, and still plays, in shaping how Americans think about the environment. Amy has tons of great stories!Full transcript of Volts podcast featuring Amy Westervelt, October 27, 2021 (PDF version)David Roberts:In recent years, there’s been a lot of talk about America’s polluted information environment — the ubiquity of disinformation — driven by social media and “fake news.” What is less discussed is that purposefully crafted disinformation designed to shape public opinion to the benefit of the wealthy and powerful is nothing new. In fact, it’s almost as old as the country itself. Amy Westervelt, a long-time, award-winning environmental journalist, has spent her career uncovering disinformation and exposing the methods of those who generate and spread it.She’s perhaps best known as the host of Drilled, a “true-crime podcast about climate change” that has spent six seasons (so far) exposing the propaganda generated and spread by the fossil fuel industry. And she’s editor-in-chief of the Drilled News site.She’s also the founder of Critical Frequency, a woman-run podcast network, as well as the co-host of the climate podcast Hot Take with climate essayist Mary Annaïse Heglar (it’s currently on hiatus; returning next year), the co-host or producer of several other podcasts (including Scene on Radio and Crooked Media’s This Land), and the author of Forget Having It All, a 2018 book on the challenges of motherhood in the US. Now Westervelt has a new project, launching today: Rigged. The foundation of the site is a treasure trove of original documents, some dating back more than a century, about the founding and growth of the modern public relations industry and its development of tools of mass persuasion.Atop that database is a series of pieces charting the landscape, offering a glossary of disinformation techniques, profiles of the (anti-)heroes of the business, and stories on various inglorious chapters in disinformation history, from chemicals to railroads to tobacco to fossil fuels. It is equal parts fascinating and horrifying — fascinating that the tools of disinformation are so well and publicly documented; horrifying that they are still working so effectively. Here’s just one fun fact: Edward Bernays, one of the pioneers of early 20th century opinion shaping, coined the term “public relations” because the Germans, he said, had “given the word propaganda a bad name.” You can also thank Bernays, Sigmund Freud’s nephew, for men wearing wristwatches, women smoking, and bacon being a standard part of American breakfast. These stories are wild.I’ve been admiring Westervelt’s work from afar for years, so I was psyched to talk to her about Rigged, the long history of disinformation, the many ways the fossil fuel industry has shaped public opinion, and why the US left seems so incapable of dealing effectively with disinformation to this day.Amy Westervelt, welcome to Volts.Amy Westervelt: Hi, thanks for having me.David Roberts: Glad you could squeeze me in between your dozens of projects. Let's start with the newest one. Tell me about Rigged: How did you come to be doing this, why are you doing it, and what would you like it to accomplish?Amy Westervelt: A little more than a year ago now I did a season of my other podcast, Drilled, looking at the history of fossil fuel propaganda. When I first started Drilled, I was just going to do one six-part season about the origins of climate denial. Then, in the course of doing that, I started thinking, climate denial is such a dumb tactic; why did it work? It's dumb to just be like, “Nuh-uh.” It's not a genius strategy. Of course, it's telling people what they want to hear, like this problem might not be that bad and maybe we don't need to do anything drastic. But I also felt like there must be more to it. So I started to look at what the industry was doing before; it's not like they just started doing PR when global warming was researched. The more I dug into that, the more I realized that they really spent a lot of time and thought to shape how people view the world in general, and especially how people view environmental issues, for a really long time, before anyone was talking about climate change. That has a lot to do with, once this issue appears, how we actually process and deal with it. But in the course of doing that, I also found all this stuff about what the PR firms and the PR people who were working for Big Oil were doing for all these other industries at the same time, and it seemed important to me for people to understand that this is a longstanding system and set of strategies that really was created to circumvent democracy. The modern PR industry comes about when you have journalists criticizing America's captains of industry for the first time, you have the vote expanding beyo

Last week, Sen. Joe Manchin (D-WV) finally stopped playing games and said that he will not vote for a budget reconciliation bill that contains the Clean Electricity Performance Program (CEPP).You can read my interview with Sen. Tina Smith (D-MN) for more on the CEPP and this post to understand why it is so centrally important to serious climate policy. I won’t get into all those arguments again. Suffice it to say, it’s a good policy and losing it is bummer.Insofar as Manchin has offered any reason for killing the CEPP, it is an alleged concern over “using taxpayer dollars to pay private companies to do things they’re already doing.”But that is just incorrect. Utilities are not “already doing” what the CEPP requires, i.e., increasing their share of clean energy 4 percentage points year-on-year, every year. Only a tiny handful of the nation’s thousands of utilities are on that trajectory.The sector as a whole is slowly decarbonizing, but the whole point of the policy is to accelerate the process to meet US carbon targets. Manchin knows that. It’s precisely what he’s trying to prevent. He told CNN flat out, “I'm not going to sit back and let anyone accelerate whatever the market's changes are doing.”Why not? Well, he wants to keep fossil fuel power plants open, which is incompatible with Biden’s publicly stated goal of 50 to 52 percent carbon reductions from 2005 levels by 2030. Manchin is standing up for local fossil fuel interests (including his own) against the president, 49 of his colleagues in the Democratic caucus, a majority of legislators in the House, a majority of voters, and even a majority of West Virginia voters.He also wants to slash the child tax credit. He’s just a jerk. It is what it is.At this point, it’s unclear what will and won’t survive into the final Build Back Better Act (or whether there will be a final bill at all). Reports are that staffers are scrambling to find ways to make up the lost emission reductions through other policies.The question is, how big of a hole are they trying to fill? How big a hit is it to lose the CEPP?A few analyses released in the past week are helpful in getting our heads around this.Energy Innovation says the loss of CEPP could cost the bill up to 35% of its emission reductionsThe first is from research firm Energy Innovation, which uses its Energy Policy Simulator to determine how much emissions would be reduced by the policies in the House Democrats’ version of the Build Back Better Act and the bipartisan infrastructure bill that was passed by the Senate over the summer. Obviously, predicting circumstances a decade hence is a fraught undertaking. Energy Innovation ran four scenarios: a business-as-usual scenario, with only existing policies, and low, moderate, and high emission-reduction scenarios based on different assumptions about the price of energy and the efficacy of various provisions in the bills. They didn’t model all the policies in the bills, just the ones that are relatively easy to quantify. Some emission reductions have gone uncounted, so the estimates Energy Innovation produced are almost certainly a lower bound. Here are the topline results:In the high scenario, clean energy reaches an 85 percent share of US electricity by 2030; in the moderate scenario, it’s 80 percent; in the low scenario, about 70 percent. As you can see in the moderate scenario below, by far the biggest tranche of emission reductions (about half) would come from the combination of the CEPP and clean-energy tax credits:The good news is that passing both bills could, “with supporting state and regulatory policy,” at the high end of the high emission reduction scenario, just barely get the US to its 2030 target. That’s if everything is included in the bills. The question now is, what do those numbers look like without the CEPP? Luckily, Energy Innovation ran a couple of variations of its moderate scenario with no CEPP (a high one, which assumes tax credits are maximally effective, and a low one, with lower take-up of tax credits).Long story short, “emissions are likely to be 250 to 700 MMT higher per year in 2030” than they would be with the CEPP, “which could eliminate more than a third of the total emissions reductions under the Infrastructure Bills.”As the scenarios show, a great deal depends on factors that can’t be precisely predicted: the price of fossil fuels, the cost curves of clean technologies, and the efficacy and impact of the clean-energy tax credits and other BBB policies. The loss of the CEPP could reduce the emissions impact of the bill anywhere from 20 to 35 percent. Resources For the Future agrees but says a carbon fee could make up for itEnergy Innovations’ findings jibe with the second analysis, from Resources for the Future (RFF). RFF modeled three policies, in various combinations: * the clean-energy tax credits, which it calls CEAA for the “Clean Energy for America Act,” a bill from Sen. Ron Wyden (D-OR) that is largely included in the BBB Act;* th

In this episode, longtime carbon market analyst and strategist Kingsmill Bond explains why he is so optimistic about the future of renewable energy. Though it remains a small portion of total global energy, its rate of growth and declining costs indicate that it is on the precipice of enormous, rapid expansion. Markets and geopolitics will be transformed by it. (There is also an abridged version of our conversation available on Canary.) Full transcript of Volts podcast featuring Kingsmill Bond, October 11, 2021(PDF version)David Roberts:It seems like good news is difficult to come by in the US these days, what with democracy on the verge of crumbling and the last big chance to address climate change held in the fickle and ill-informed hands of the Senate’s most conservative Democrat, who lives on a yacht and literally makes money off of coal plants. As it happens, I have a stash of good news I’ve holding in reserve — a guest I’ve been meaning to talk to forever, but have been treating like a break-glass-in-case-of-emergency thing. I felt grim enough this week that I finally called him up.His name is Bond. Kingsmill Bond. (Sorry, had to do it.) He’s an energy strategist at the think tank Carbon Tracker, where he arrived after decades of doing market analysis and strategy for big financial institutions like Deutsche Bank and Citibank. Bond’s experience and research have led him to the conclusion that the shift to clean energy has become unstoppable and that it will be the dominant force shaping financial markets and geopolitics in the 21st century. He argues that we are on the front end of a massive, precipitous wave of change to rival the industrial revolution — one that will unfold even if policy support is weak and erratic, purely on the strengths of economics and innovation.We need to update our mental model of climate mitigation, he says. It’s not about pain, about how to distribute extra costs and who will be the most altruistic. It’s about gain, about which countries will benefit most and fastest from the tapping of almost limitless new markets and opportunities for growth. There are no fundamental limits to the spread of zero-carbon energy. There’s more than enough renewable energy, accessible with today’s technology, to supply the world’s energy needs. Not only do we know how to get there, it is where we are headed, based on current market and technology trends. The key to succeeding on climate change is simply accelerating what is already underway, pushing a rolling boulder a little faster. Like I said, I’m in need of good news like this, so I was excited to talk to Bond about the cost of renewable energy, the peak in fossil fuel demand, and the inevitability of a 100 percent clean-energy system.Without further ado, Kingsmill Bond, welcome to Volts.Kingsmill Bond: Thank you for having me on the show, David.David Roberts: Kingsmill, I've been following you for years and you've been a reliable source of good news. You recently published an article arguing that we need to flip our story on climate change mitigation: It's not one of pain, about distributing costs and sacrifice and who's going to be more altruistic; it's about gain, about who's going to claim the giant rewards that are waiting. So before we dive into the specifics, give me the elevator-pitch version of why people confronting the daunting task of addressing climate change should feel better than they generally do.Kingsmill Bond: Well, thanks very much for putting it in those terms. The point here simply is that we have got this new, enormous, cheap energy resource in solar and wind that we've unlocked with technology, and we're just starting to be able to apply it. As we apply it, it gets cheaper, because it's on learning curves. Therefore, we've unlocked an enormous cheap source of energy that can be used to provide all of our current energy demands and, indeed, the energy demands of those who have very limited amounts of energy. It's an exciting opportunity and moment to do that.David Roberts: The center of that story is the learning curves for renewable energy. You single out four different technologies on steep learning curves that, if we project them continuing, bear all kinds of good news. Tell us what those technologies are and what the curves look like right now.Kingsmill Bond: The four most clear technologies which are on established learning curves are solar PV for producing electricity; wind for producing electricity; batteries for storage; and electrolyzers to convert that electricity into hydrogen. All four of them have been the subject of a recent paper by Oxford University looking at their learning curves, that is to say, the amount that their costs drop for every doubling in deployment. All of their learning curves are between 16 and 34 percent, which was already fairly well known. But the additional point that's being made by this paper is that when technologies get onto learning curves, they tend to stay on them for very

Over the years, readers, I have had numerous occasions to be irritated with economists, particularly economists acting as political pundits. I thought today I would explain why. There are those in climate circles who lay most of the blame for the failure of climate action to date at the feet of economists. I’m not one of those people. I just lay … some of the blame at their feet. The fact is, rapidly transforming the entire industrial base of every country on earth was always going to be difficult — lots of extremely powerful interests stand to lose a great deal of money and power — and was probably going to go slowly no matter what economists did.Nonetheless, I think there’s a good argument to be made that, when it comes to the interface of economics and politics, climate economics and climate economists have blown it pretty comprehensively — and have not necessarily learned all the lessons they should have learned. I’ll start by recounting a notable episode and then contemplate two sorts of lessons that might be learned from it, one of which seems like it’s sinking in and and one of which … less so.The case of carbon pricingThis is a familiar story, so I’ll keep it short.The theoretical benefits of carbon pricing, as explored ad nauseam by economics over the last several decades, are well-understood. If you have all the stocks and flows of an economy in a giant spreadsheet, and you tweak the “price of carbon” variable, changes cascade throughout the spreadsheet. Every column in which carbon plays a part (which is almost every part of the US economy) adjusts.Modern neoliberal economics tends to seek the optimally efficient policy, and on that score — maximum results from minimum intervention in the economy — a price on carbon is the winner. It’s one variable you can adjust to optimize your whole spreadsheet. These arguments on behalf of carbon pricing are, I hasten to emphasize, valid. In a spreadsheet economy, turning the carbon-price knob is the most efficient way to reduce carbon emissions.But the economy isn’t a spreadsheet and carbon pricing isn’t just another knob on some policy console. Carbon pricing faces political-economy problems that are, at this point, almost as well-understood (at least by those who have been paying attention) as its theoretical merits. In fact, the closer a carbon price gets to the economist’s ideal — pegged to the social cost of carbon, equal across sectors, covering the whole economy — the more political-economy problems it faces. Its efficiency varies in inverse proportion to its feasibility.The more sectors are roped in under the carbon price, the more simultaneous enemies the policy makes. Different industries have different levels of power and influence and need to be compensated in different ways for their political acquiescence, but a carbon price applies to all industries equally, so it can not compensate any of them in particular. Thus, it has no friends (except economists).Carbon pricing policies can be and have been tweaked to overcome these difficulties, but with every tweak, optimal efficiency recedes in the rearview mirror. For one thing, pretty much every extant carbon price is the world is too low, well beneath the social cost of carbon. In the real world, other sector-specific industrial policies that are more politically manageable, like feed-in tariffs and renewable energy standards, have prevented far more emissions.Anyway, I won’t rehearse all these arguments again. If you want to read up, start with this piece I did for Vox, this piece from Jesse Jenkins, or this three-part interview I did with David Victor and Danny Cullenward, who wrote a whole book on the subject. For years, economists acted like serious grappling with political-economy constraints was beneath them, and they bullied big environmental groups into becoming economist wannabes, preaching their “market-friendly” gospel. The entire decade of the 2000s was spent preparing for a national climate-pricing push in 2008 that ended up producing precisely nothing. It wasn’t until 2020 that another shot came around at the federal level — thankfully, Dems aren’t repeating their mistake (at least that mistake).The capture of the climate policy debate by carbon-price-obsessed economists in the late 20th century helped send national and international climate policy down a multi-decade cul-de-sac in which very little was accomplished and much precious time was wasted. So what can be learned from that experience? I think there are two broad lessons, the first about the substance of climate economics and the second about the political behavior of economists. Conventional economics has mostly gotten climate change wrongPart of what prompted me to write this post in the first place is this piece by economist Daron Acemoglu about the failures of economics on climate change and some longstanding assumptions that need to be updated. It’s a smart, approachable distillation of some critiques that will be famili

In this episode, I talk with Sarah Smith of the Clean Air Task Force about methane, the greenhouse gas that falls out of the atmosphere more quickly than carbon dioxide but trap a lot more heat while it’s there. We discuss sources of methane pollution, opportunities for reduction, and recent policy developments. Full transcript of Volts podcast featuring Sarah Smith, September 29, 2021(PDF version)David Roberts:Methane is having a moment. Methane — chemical name CH4 — is a fuel. It is the primary ingredient in natural gas, which generates about 40 percent of US electricity and heats about half of US homes. It is also an air pollutant, a precursor to ground-level ozone, which is toxic to humans. And it is also a greenhouse gas, much shorter lived in the atmosphere than CO2, but much more potent while it is there. Methane in the atmosphere comes from leaks along oil and gas infrastructure, from agriculture (primarily cow burps and manure), and from landfills. Rising concern over methane pollution has culminated in the Global Methane Pledge, announced by President Joe Biden’s White House last week, which would have participating countries (which include the EU, the UK, and Mexico) reduce methane emissions at least 30 percent by 2030. This followed the United Nations Environment Program’s Global Methane Assessment in May, which found that substantially and rapidly reducing methane is the only way to meet the international goal of keeping warming under 1.5°C. Clearly, for those of us who haven’t been paying as close attention as we should, it’s time to tune into the methane debate. The Clean Air Task Force has been tracking methane pollution and advocating for reductions for years. So I was eager to talk to Sarah Smith, the head of CATF’s Super Pollutants program, about the basics of methane: where it comes from, how it can be reduced, and the battles over it in US methane policy. (See also: Smith’s op-ed in Canary.)Without further ado, Sarah Smith, welcome to Volts. Thanks for coming.Sarah Smith: Thank you so much for having me, David.David Roberts: For those of us who have not been tracking the details of methane as closely as they might: what exactly is methane? Sarah Smith: Methane is an invisible, odorless gas that is commonly known as the main constituent of natural gas. It has flown under the radar for far too long. It's currently contributing to about half the warming that we're experiencing today.David Roberts: Methane is a greenhouse gas that traps more heat in the atmosphere than CO2, but for a shorter period of time. What is the climate change potential of methane, and how does it differ from CO2?Sarah Smith: Every pound of methane heats the climate more than 80 times as much as a pound of CO2. But methane only lasts for about a decade in the atmosphere, which is a big opportunity, because quickly reducing the amount of methane in the atmosphere would very quickly slow warming, whereas carbon dioxide is slowly building up over time and takes much longer to reduce.David Roberts: I’ve seen it compared to stock vs. flow. With CO2, if you stock it up in the atmosphere it stays, so you have to worry about the total amount. Methane is a flow problem; it's constantly coming out of the atmosphere. Is it fair to say that if we reduced the addition of methane into the atmosphere to the rate at which it was coming out of the atmosphere, we would basically stabilize its temperature effect? In other words, theoretically, there is some level of methane emissions at which you're not making things warmer.Sarah Smith:Exactly, and that's the goal: to get back to those pre-industrial concentrations of methane by ensuring that less methane is being added than removed.David Roberts: It is startling that methane has caused half of historical climate warming thus far. How was that discovered, and how did we not know it for so long?Sarah Smith:I ask myself that question all the time. The latest report from the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change finally shone a bright light on methane; you saw the CO2 bar next to the methane bar and clearly, methane was causing a substantial amount of the warming, about half as much as CO2. Subsequently, the attention is growing, as it should, and as it has been for years, but finally, we're really reaching a crescendo here.David Roberts:What are the implications for policy? What does this allow us to do if we grab hold of the methane lever?Sarah Smith: A powerful lever it is. We don't have a lot of time left — perhaps 10 to 15 years, maybe less — to bend the warming curve in order to stave off irreversible changes to our climate, including self-reinforcing feedbacks where the world warms itself, like the loss of the remaining reflective sea ice, which would add the equivalent of a trillion tons of CO2 to what's already been added. There's also the Amazon tipping point, where the Amazon could be canceled out as a carbon sink. And many others. So we're in this race now to slow warming,

Here’s a question: is it better to drive somewhere or to take a ride-hailing service like Uber or Lyft? I don’t mean better for you personally — faster or cheaper. I mean better for the world, for society, for the air and atmosphere … better, all things considered. A clever new study from researchers at Carnegie Mellon University attempts to answer that question.Ride-hailing services carry more external costs than private vehiclesIn the paper, Jacob Ward, Jeremy Michalek, and Constantine Samaras attempt to tally up the relative costs to the environment and society of taking a trip via a privately owned vehicle vs. taking the same trip in what they call a transportation network company (TNC) like Uber or Lyft, in six of the companies’ biggest markets.This involves two steps in each market. First, they add up how many miles the respective vehicles travel per trip. Then, they add up the total externalities — in vehicle emissions, congestion, crashes, and noise — represented by each mile traveled. (These externalities, notoriously, are not priced into transportation decisions; thus the name.)To understand the results, you have to understand one key fact: TNC vehicles travel more miles per trip. They have to drive between where they drop off one fare and pick up another, which sometimes involves quite a bit of just wandering around. This time spent with no passenger is called “deadheading,” and those miles must be added to their trip miles.Here’s a clear visual representation:Those dotted black lines on the bottom half? That’s deadheading. Those extra miles traveled represent more externalities — more cost to the environment and society. On average, a TNC trip carries 32 to 37 cents more in external costs than a private vehicle trip. (See also this recent MIT study, which found that TNC vehicles increase urban road congestion.)There are three countervailing factors, but only the third is big enough to flip the equation enough to give TNCs the advantage in some limited circumstances.Ride-hailing services reduce air pollutionFirst, though additional miles lead to more greenhouse gas emissions, congestion, crashes, and noise, somewhat counterintuitively, they lead to less air pollution. The secret here is that the bulk of particulate air pollution is generated from “cold starts,” i.e., engines turning over to start up. By contrast, TNC vehicles arrive “hot.” Their engines are already running, so they don’t do cold starts. In addition, TNC vehicles are, on average, newer, and thus cleaner.On average, TNC trips represent a 50 to 60 percent decline (9–13¢ per trip) in air pollutants like NOx, PM2.5, and VOCs.If TNC vehicles electrify faster than private vehicles, that advantage will grow, because EVs generate no tailpipe pollution. But if private vehicles electrify equally fast, the comparative advantage will stay the same.Regardless, the difference is not enough to overcome the other externalities. TNC trips represent a 20 percent increase in costs from greenhouse gas emissions and a 60 percent increase in costs from congestion, crashes, and noise (all told, about 45¢ more per trip). Overall, a 9–13¢ decrease and a 45¢ increase add up to 32 to 37 cents more per trip, on average.Electric ride-hailing vehicles … are still mostly worse than private vehiclesThe second countervailing factor is vehicle electrification. Doesn’t that reduce externalities? What the researchers found is that a) if the TNC car is electric, while b) the private vehicle alternative is an internal combustion engine car, and c) the TNC car charges entirely with zero-carbon electricity, then the overall environmental and social costs of a TNC trip and a personal vehicle trip are … about the same. Of course, those conditions are rarely met. On real-world grids, which are still powered overwhelmingly by fossil fuels, electrification of TNCs reduces the relative advantage of personal vehicle trips by about 16 or 17 percent. It does not eliminate the advantage. And of course, that advantage will shrink as the private vehicle fleet electrifies. So what, then, is the third countervailing factor, the one that can actually make a TNC trip better than a personal vehicle trip? Shared ride-hailing vehicles are better than private vehiclesMaybe you’ve already guessed the answer: it’s ride-sharing. Put two people in the TNC car — i.e., have one TNC trip substitute for two personal vehicle trips — and voilà, you flip the script and your TNC trip is a net positive for the world. “When a TNC trip is known to be pooled,” the paper says, “shifting travel from a private vehicle reduces net external costs by a mean value of $0.60/trip.”Wow, if you pooled three people you could save even more. Or four people. You could even pool dozens of people on large vehicles that travel on fixed routes and timetables. You could reduce all kinds of externalities! I wonder if anyone has tried that. Speaking of which, what if the TNC trip displaced a trip on public transit, where the

In 2016, Illinois passed a decent enough energy bill. It shored up the state’s (relatively modest) renewable energy standard and kept its existing nuclear power plants open. It was a compromise among varied interests, signed into law by a Democratic legislature and a Republican governor. At the time, I figured it was the best any state in the coal-heavy Midwest was likely to do.Well, that will teach me to go around figuring. Just five years later, Illinois has raised the bar, passing one of the most environmentally ambitious, worker-friendly, justice-focused energy bills of any state in the country: The Climate and Equitable Jobs Act. Illinois is now the first state in the Midwest to commit to net-zero carbon emissions, joining over a dozen other states across the country. It is also a model for how diverse stakeholders can reach consensus. What’s changed in IllinoisA great deal has changed since that 2016 bill was passed.First and foremost, in 2018, Democrats gained a trifecta in state government, increasing their lead in both houses of the Illinois General Assembly and putting Democrat J.B. Pritzker in the governor’s office. As I have emphasized numerous times now, Democratic control is a necessary (if not sufficient) condition for ambitious state energy policy.Soon after the 2018 election, negotiations over a new energy bill began in earnest. The state’s labor community was sensitive to the fact that it had largely been left out of the 2016 bill; the legislation contained no labor standards, and recent years have seen Illinois renewable energy projects importing cheaper out-of-state workforces. Labor didn’t want to get left behind in the state’s energy transition, so it organized a coalition of groups under the banner Climate Jobs Illinois and set about playing an active role in negotiations. Renewable energy developers — cognizant of the fact that Illinois is falling short of its renewable energy goals (it’s at 9 percent; it’s supposed to be at 21) and state funding has dried up for new renewable energy projects — organized as Path to 100. Environmental and climate-justice groups organized as the Illinois Clean Jobs Coalition.All the groups introduced energy bills of their own. And then they spent years banging their heads together.But there was another key difference: this time around, utilities were not at the table. Exelon subsidiary ComEd had been caught up in a bribery scandal that left it disempowered and weak, under a deferred prosecution agreement. The scandal also led to House Speaker Michael Madigan, a reliable utility ally, being removed from his position. Utilities were, to put it crudely, on the s**t list, allowing political leadership to restrain their historic (and largely counterproductive) influence.Nonetheless, by all accounts, negotiations were difficult; the bill was declared dead several times. Senate President Don Harmon (D) said several times that it is the single most complex piece of legislation he’d ever worked on. There were uncertainties and impasses right up through the final week. But they got it done! It passed with bipartisan supermajorities: 83-33 in the House and 37-17 in the Senate. Pritzker signed it on September 15.One crucial piece of the puzzle was new political leadership, from Pritzker on down. Harmon, who became Senate president in 2018, is a longtime champion of renewable energy. In January 2021, Rep. Chris Welch, a widely respected deal-maker, replaced Madigan as House Speaker. Welch pursued what his office calls “distributed, collective leadership” — key members of the House Democratic leadership took responsibility for acting as liaisons to the legislature’s Black caucus, the environmental community, and coal communities.By all accounts, everyone performed their roles ably, holding an unwieldy coalition together through choppy waters. Illinois politics reporter Rich Miller has a nice rundown of the final passage, which he calls “a spectacular victory.”From the beginning, everyone involved was more or less aligned around rapid growth of renewable energy and full decarbonization of the electricity sector by 2045. The most contentious issue proved to be the schedule for decarbonization. The environmentalists in the Clean Jobs Coalition wanted steady 20 percent reductions every five years, starting in 2026. The labor groups in Climate Jobs Illinois were worried that shutting down fossil fuel plants that fast would lead to the state being forced to import fossil fuel power from out of state, sacrificing jobs to no environmental gain.Particularly thorny was a municipally owned coal plant, the 10-year-old Prairie State Energy Campus in southwestern Illinois, which is the state’s biggest greenhouse gas emitter and a horrendous financial boondoggle that costs more to run than its power is worth. Part of the problem is that the plant, owned by a consortium of nine public power agencies, was largely funded by municipal bonds from the communities meant to receive its po

In this episode, veteran solar advocate Adam Browning reflects on 20 years of running campaigns as the founder and leader of Vote Solar, one of the scrappiest and most successful solar advocacy organizations in the US. Browning, who is stepping down from leadership this year, helped grow the group from four people to 40, and along the way he’s learned a few things about how nonprofit campaigns can succeed against better funded opponents. Full transcript of Volts podcast featuring Adam Browning, September 17, 2021(PDF version)David Roberts:There aren't a lot of positive, hopeful stories competing for attention in the US these days, but one ray of light — if you'll pardon the pun — comes in the form of solar power. During the 21st century it has plunged in price, to the point that it is the cheapest available source of power in most big energy markets. Though it provides just 3 percent of US electricity today, analysts say it could provide close to half by mid-century. Adam Browning has lived through every stage of this extraordinary ongoing story. He co-founded Vote Solar, a nonprofit that advocates for solar energy at the state level, in 2002, to push for solar on public buildings in San Francisco. Since then, he has helped build a team of 40 people that operates across the country and has led numerous campaigns for state policy and regulatory changes. For as long as I’ve been doing energy journalism, I’ve known Adam and Vote Solar to be reliable sources — smart, practical, and results-oriented. I read all their emails, which regular listeners will know is high praise.Now, after 20 years, Browning is stepping back, shifting to an advisory role and handing off day-to-day leadership of Vote Solar. Given his long experience, I thought it would be interesting to talk to him about what he has learned, how much things have changed for solar, and where solar and climate advocacy need to go next. Adam Browning, welcome to Volts.Adam Browning: Thanks, really pleased to be here.David Roberts: You’ve been at this for 20 years now. Tell me the Adam Browning origin story. How did you gravitate to this particular field? It must have been relatively soon after you were out of college; it must have been one of the first things you did and stuck with it. Tell us how you got into all of this.Adam Browning: You're too kind. My youthful demeanor — I’ll have to tell my stylist. It wasn't quite right out of college. I've never had a plan that I put into place; I've always moved from the thing that seemed really interesting to me at the time, and then was open to that next opportunity. After college, I did Peace Corps in West Africa, which was in many ways an incredibly formative experience, a moveable feast that I continue to look back on and think about, and that experience continues to nourish. After that, I joined EPA in San Francisco, the Region 9 office, and worked there for about eight years. The origin story — not of Adam Browning, but really Vote Solar, which is probably more to the point here — was really born out of spending a good chunk of time with the federal government doing environmental protection. I was doing a lot of enforcement and inspecting smokestacks, and fines were exceeding limits in some ways.David Roberts: This would have been during the Clinton years, yes? Adam Browning: Yes, and then a little bit of the Bush years. So that experience was a wonderful introduction to how environmental protection works and doesn't work in this country. When I was nearly 30, I had a beer with a college buddy, and he was working for then-San Francisco Mayor Willie Brown. This friend, David Hochschild, is now a California energy commissioner, the chair of the Commission. He had just put solar on his roof at home. At the time, solar was really expensive, and there wasn't much of it; it was very much a hippie pipe dream. But he put it on his house and was enthralled by it. And he was like, “Hey man, we should try to put this on City Hall. We need to have governments take the lead.” Through that beer and subsequent napkin diagramming, we came up with the idea of a revenue bond to put solar and energy efficiency on public buildings in San Francisco and then use the avoided energy costs, the energy payments, to pay down the bonds, so you have long-term, low-interest capital. It all penciled out. That turned into first a campaign to get it on the ballot as a ballot initiative, and then a citywide campaign to pass this ballot initiative. That was Prop B. This is back in 2001. That experience was really galvanizing, transformative for me in a couple of different ways. One: this idea of solar as an emission-free technology. I’d been spending all this time trying to control smokestacks; how about if we just didn't have any at all? That really dropped for me. Secondly, we had this campaign where you could actually do solar — then, again, really expensive — but we could do it cost effectively, the way that we'd had this scoped out. Th

After months of anticipation, Democrats have begun to reveal pieces of their upcoming Build Back Better Act (aka the budget reconciliation bill), including the key clean energy provisions. On Monday, the House Energy and Commerce Committee began markup of its full set of recommendations for the bill. Meanwhile, the House Ways and Means Committee released its draft tax package for the bill, including the clean energy tax credits.As negotiations around the reconciliation bill move forward, I’ll have more to say about the politics, economics, and larger implications of all this Democratic energy policy. For now, I just want to get the specifics on the record. For one thing, there’s a lot of policy here, and it will take some time to think it through. For another, it will be important to track what gets added and (more likely) cut when the bill goes to the Senate, so this post can serve as our baseline for comparison.Let’s start with Energy and Commerce and its Clean Electricity Performance Program (CEPP), arguably the most important single piece of energy policy on offer.E&C: the CEPP and some other good spending (For a quick introduction to the CEPP, see highlights from my interview with Sen. Tina Smith.)The $150 billion CEPP would offer grants to utilities that increase their year-on-year share of clean energy by at least 4 percentage points; it would charge fines to utilities that fall short of that goal. (“Utilities” here includes any and all end-use electricity providers: vertically integrated utilities, investor-owned utilities, co-ops and munis, etc.)For the purposes of the bill, “clean energy” is energy that emits no more than 0.1 tons of CO2-equivalent per megawatt-hour of electricity generated. This 0.1t/MWh threshold is notably stringent — it would exclude all fossil fuels and biomass unless they are equipped with carbon capture and storage.The grants are based on a somewhat complicated formula: $150/MWh x (YoY percentage point increase in clean share - 1.5 percentage point) x total retail sales.Say a utility boosted its year-on-year clean share by 5 percentage points. Five percentage points minus 1.5 percentage points is 3.5 percentage points. So the utility would get a one-time grant of $150/MWh for 3.5 percent of it retail sales that year.The formula for the fines is: $40/MWh x (4 percentage points - YoY percentage point increase in clean share) x total retail sales.Say a utility grew its share 3 percentage points. Four percentage points minus 3 percentage points is 1 percentage point, so it would pay a one-time fine of $40/MWh for 1 percent of its retail sales. (The exception here is utilities with a clean share at 85 percent or above; they are exempt from fines, but still eligible for grants.)A utility is not allowed to fall steadily behind; any shortfall is added to the following year’s target. If it only hits 3 percentage points growth one year, the next year a utility must hit 5 percentage points growth. Utilities can choose to tally up their performance over a two- or three-year period, to smooth over year-to-year spikes or valleys; for instance, if a utility hits 3 percentage points in year one and 3 percentage points in year two but 6 percentage points in year three, it averages out to 4 percentage points a year and it receives the grants.This is all a bit convoluted; it would definitely keep accountants and lawyers busy. There are five things worth noting about the CEPP at this point.First, $150/MWh is real money. Spread out over a 10-year power purchase agreement (PPA), it’s about $15/MWh/year, not that different from (but additive to) the clean-energy tax credits. That, coupled with the tight definition of clean energy, makes this a relatively strong offering, design-wise. Second, a lot of details would be left up to the Department of Energy, which would administer the program, such as how distributed and behind-the-meter resources will be counted, how much compliance can be done through renewable energy credits (RECs), and so forth. There are lots of devils in those details.Third, it is not accurate to say that the CEPP targets, much less guarantees, 80 percent emission reductions in the electricity sector by 2030. That is Biden’s goal, and the aspiration for the full suite of policies Dems are trying to pass, but the CEPP, by design, does not guarantee any particular outcome. How would utilities respond to this level of incentives and fines? We hope to find out! It’s a new program; it’s never been tried before. (It would kick off in 2023.)Fourth, a study by the independent firm Analysis Group found that, through 2031, the CEPP would expand the US workforce by 7.7 million new jobs, add $907 billion to the national economy, raise $154 billion in tax revenue, and lead to over 600 gigawatts of new clean energy. It’s not a cost, it’s an investment.Fifth, there’s no guarantee Sen. Joe Manchin (D-WV) will let this pass unmolested, or let it pass at all. He chairs the Senate Energy and Natur

As a dog walker and kitchen cleaner, I listen to a lot of podcasts. One that I’ve been enjoying quite a bit lately is Know Your Enemy, which bills itself as “a leftist's guide to the conservative movement.” Sponsored by Dissent Magazine and hosted by Matthew Sitman and Sam Adler-Bell, it typically interviews experts, analysts, and activists about the current (lamentable) state of the US conservative movement. It is unusually smart and thoughtful, offering more illumination than rage bait.Recently it had a different kind of episode: a pod on climate change. The guests were Daniel Sherrell, an activist and organizer who just released a book called Warmth: Coming of Age at the End of the World, and Dorothy Fortenberry, a playwright and television writer currently working on Extrapolations, an upcoming limited series for Apple TV+ that focuses on climate change.I’ll be honest: I don’t typically enjoy climate change content. It’s mostly a bunch stuff I already know, arguments I already agree with, and exhortations I don’t need. But this one was different. Rather than focusing on politics, policy, or science, it’s about, well, living with climate change. How to think about it. How to acknowledge its horror and weight without being crushed and immobilized. How to make fiction about it. How to imagine a future in its shadow. Lots of philosophical and even spiritual stuff that I haven’t focused on much here at Volts.Anyway, I asked Matthew and Sam if I could share it with Volts listeners and they were kind enough to say yes. It is long, but rich and full of interesting ideas. I hope you enjoy it. Don’t forget to support Know Your Enemy on Patreon! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.volts.wtf/subscribe

In this episode, Sen. Tina Smith (D-MN) discusses a policy that she has proposed in the Senate and is working to get included in the upcoming reconciliation bill: a Clean Electricity Payment Program (CEPP), which would aim to reduce carbon emissions in the US electricity sector 80 percent by 2030. She also shares some excellent thoughts on the filibuster!Full transcript of Volts podcast featuring Sen. Tina Smith (D-MN), September 1, 2021(PDF version)David Roberts:There are lots and lots of policies being discussed for inclusion in the Democrats’ upcoming budget reconciliation bill, from a childcare tax credit to universal pre-K to a wide range of climate and clean-energy measures.According to the office of Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer (D-NY), the climate provisions in the bill would collectively reduce total US greenhouse gas emissions 45 percent below 2005 levels by 2030 — getting us close to America’s Paris agreement pledge. Schumer’s numbers have not yet been backed up by outside analysts, so they should be taken with a grain of salt for now. But what’s clear, and unlikely to change, is that the bulk of the emission reductions will come from the electricity sector — specifically, from the clean-energy tax credits and the Clean Electricity Payment Program. As regular Volts readers know, the Clean Electricity Payment Program is a version of the more familiar Clean Energy Standard that has been modified to fit within the rules of budget reconciliation. It would set up a federal program that would offer utilities financial incentives to increase their proportion of clean energy and levy fines on those that failed to do so. Its goal would be to reduce emissions from the US electricity sector 80 percent by 2030.As Schumer’s graph shows, the Clean Electricity Payment Program, in combination with the extension and expansion of the clean-energy tax credits, would be responsible for almost 42 percent of the bill’s total reductions. To hear more about the program and how it will work, I talked with Minnesota Senator Tina Smith (D), the policy’s sponsor and its greatest champion in the Senate. Smith is one of the handful of senators with in-depth knowledge of the dynamics in the US electricity sector, and she’s deeply involved in budget negotiations, so I was excited to ask her about how the program would work, what kinds of jobs and projects it might produce, how it might affect coal states, and of course, because I am me, what she thinks about the filibuster. Senator Tina Smith, thank you so much for coming on Volts. Sen. Tina Smith:Well, thank you, David. It is terrific to be with you. David Roberts:We're going to talk today about clean electricity policy and the politics of getting it passed, which are two of my very favorite subjects in the world, so let's just dive right in. Senator Smith, I’m pretty confident that Volts listeners are familiar with state-level policies, renewable portfolio standards or clean energy standards at the state level, that mandate that utilities in the state increase their proportion of clean energy. It’s a regulatory mandate passed by the state government; these are familiar, there are dozens of them across the country. The Clean Electricity Payment Program that you have proposed is not quite that. So why don't you start by telling us what it is and how it is similar and different to these more familiar state policies? Sen. Tina Smith: Well, the basic goal is the same. We want to move the power generating sector so that it is adding clean energy. One way of doing that is to have a regulatory framework that says, you will add clean energy, and if you don't, you'll pay a penalty. But another way of achieving that goal of adding clean power is to do what we're doing with the Clean Electricity Payment Program. This is a plan that says: We will provide financial incentives to utilities to add clean power; there'll be a fee if you fail to add clean power; and our goal is to get, on a national average, 80 percent of our power generation from clean energy sources by 2030. So the goal is the same: adding clean power. The mechanism is a little bit different. I think this mechanism has some real advantages, because under a regulatory framework, adding that clean power costs money in the short term (though it saves money in the long term) and often those costs are passed on to ratepayers. With the clean electricity plan that we're proposing, this federal incentive would defray the costs that utility ratepayers would normally pay. That's the real advantage of this approach.David Roberts: It’s worth pointing out something I've heard from a couple of the architects: costs on ratepayers tend to be regressive, whereas federal money comes from more progressive income taxes. So you get a progressivity advantage by drawing the money from the federal pot.Sen. Tina Smith: Absolutely. That's exactly right. We need to be on this path to a clean energy transition, but what you don't want to have hap

As we speak, Democrats in Congress are hashing out the details of the budget reconciliation bill that will contain the vast bulk of President Joe Biden’s domestic agenda. It is meant to be passed alongside the recent bipartisan infrastructure package that came out of the Senate. One of the unique features of this political moment is that virtually every individual Democrat has the power to sink the whole enterprise — there are zero Dem votes to spare in the Senate and only a handful in the House — but if any of them sink it, it all goes down. If progressive Dems kill the bipartisan infrastructure bill, conservative Dems will kill the reconciliation bill, and vice versa. (House Speaker Nancy Pelosi recently agreed to hold a vote on the bipartisan bill on Sep. 27, but progressives have pledged not to vote for it unless reconciliation also gets a vote.)They either all succeed together or all fail together. And if they fail, the party will get crushed in 2022 and 2024. None of them will escape unscathed. They’ve got to make it work.For obvious reasons, there’s an enormous amount of speculation about how various Democrats will play their hands in these negotiations. I can’t claim to understand the motivations of everyone involved. The recalcitrant House “moderates” are some mix of irrational and malicious. Sen. Kyrsten Sinema is utterly opaque.But Sen. Joe Manchin makes sense to me, for the simple reason that I believe he has West Virginia’s best interests at heart. And that’s why I’m confident he’s going to find his way to supporting an ambitious reconciliation bill. He knows West Virginia needs it.The simple fact is, West Virginia’s energy economy is not on a sustainable course. US coal is on the way out.This is true across the country and it’s true in West Virginia. One of the state’s two big utilities, American Electric Power (AEP), will shut down 5,574 megawatts of WV coal generation by 2030, and the rest of it by 2040. The other, First Energy, has pledged carbon neutrality by 2050. The number of US coal mines continues to fall.Many of the states biggest private sector employers, like Walmart, Kroger, Lowe’s, and Proctor & Gamble, have set aggressive emission-reduction goals and are looking for clean electricity (which they must currently purchase out of state). The people of West Virginia largely understand that an inexorable energy transition is underway. They are scared it will leave them and their communities behind. West Virginia needs new investment and new jobs. They need leadership. Passing some version of Joe Biden’s American Jobs Plan (AJP) would be an enormous boon to the state and a political win for Joe Manchin.The American Jobs Plan would invest in West VirginiaLast week, the Center for Energy and Sustainable Development at the WVU law school released a new analysis showing what a few key provisions of AJP would do for West Virginia’s economy. (It builds on a previous analysis demonstrating the feasibility of rapid decarbonization in the state.) Specifically, it models a “Clean Innovation Pathway” that would reduce carbon emissions from the state’s electricity system roughly 80 percent by 2030, taking into account two key policies from the AJP: extension/expansion of the clean-energy tax credits and the 48C Advanced Manufacturing Tax Credit, which invests in clean-energy manufacturing projects. Through 2040, the Clean Innovation Pathway reduces the cost of electricity by $855 million and increases employment by the equivalent of 3,500 full-time jobs, while pulling in $20.9 billion in investment in new solar, wind, energy storage, and other clean-energy projects. If Manchin’s American Jobs in Energy Manufacturing Act (which would expand 48C) were passed as part of the AJP, it would draw an additional $1.7 billion in manufacturing investments and create an additional 3,250-4,350 manufacturing jobs (plus 9,300-12,400 jobs created indirectly). Importantly, these numbers capture only a fraction of the AJP’s benefits to West Virginia. There are other investments in Biden’s plan that would land in the state.Carbon capture, utilization, and storage (CCUS) would get money for demonstration projects; money for a series of “pioneer projects” applying CCUS to steel, cement, and other heavy industrial plants; and a tax credit for carbon capture and storage.There’s money for economic development in coal country, reclamation of mines and wells, weatherization of buildings, regional innovation hubs, and much else that would channel investment into the WV energy sector. Perhaps most importantly: the analysis, done back in April, does not take into account the effects of a Clean Energy Payment Program (CEPP), which would offer federal payments to utilities that increase their deployment of clean energy — whether it’s solar, wind, geothermal, hydrogen fuels, or natural gas with carbon capture — and levy fines on those that fell short. In effect, federal revenue would pay for West Virginia’s transition to clean e

A trickle of transcripts!First up, an administrative note: many, many people have requested written transcripts of the Volts podcasts. And I want to provide them. But it’s going to take a while.I could produce the transcripts in a few hours if I were willing to simply send the sound files through a robot transcriber like Otter and accept the somewhat choppy results (which are generally around 85 percent accurate).However, I’m way too anal retentive to do that. And Volts readers deserve better! I want to clean the transcripts up — remove all the “sort of’s” and “kind of’s,” delete aborted or repeated sentences, polish up the grammar — so that they are as pleasant to read as they are to hear. (I’m not that precious about preserving the exact original words; I’m more interested in clearly capturing meaning in readable form.)That means closely copyediting these files, some of which are more than 10,000 words. So far, with a little help, I’ve gotten through … one. And it took about 10 people-hours of work. Sigh.Here’s the full transcript of my podcast with Rep. Sean Casten on “Hot FERC Summer” (and here’s a PDF version). For those who’d like a more compact version, here’s a highlight reel running on Canary.Hopefully these will get somewhat faster and easier going forward. I will let you know as they come out. Now, on to the main event.Pulling tipping points into climate economicsJust about everyone familiar with climate change has heard about “tipping points.” Famed climate scientist Wallace Broecker first raised the possibility way back in 1987, and ever since then, they’ve loomed large in the climate discussion.The idea behind tipping points is fairly simple and familiar: as heat accumulates in the atmosphere, Earth’s geophysical systems may not simply adjust in linear fashion, alongside the incrementally rising temperature; in some cases, they may “tip over” some unpredictable threshold and enter a fundamentally new state, sometimes called a “phase shift.” Think of ice that has slowly cracked suddenly shattering, or “the straw that broke the camel’s back.” The commonly cited examples of potential tipping points are the Greenland and West Antarctic ice sheets. As warming has progressed, they have been shedding water and developing deep fissures. It is possible that at some (unpredictable) point, one or both will lose integrity and begin breaking apart altogether, irreversibly, raising global sea level dozens of feet in relatively short order.Because the consequences of some oft-discussed tipping points are rather apocalyptic, they have been used and misused for a long time in climate communications. It has somewhat annoyed climate scientists, because not only are these tipping points not a sure thing, each one is, in its own right, relatively unlikely.Civilization-ending changes are not likely, but they’re not zero probability either. Legendary Harvard economist Martin Weitzman called these low-probability, high-impact possibilities “tail risks” and was famous for warning that economists are not taking them into account — and are thus underestimating the need for rapid decarbonization. In his book Climate Shock, co-authored with his protégé, New York University’s Gernot Wagner, he argued that the right way to think about climate mitigation is not through a cost-benefit lens, as though particular levels of spending avoid specific levels of damages, but instead as a kind of insurance. We purchase insurance to cover against tail risks all the time, not because we think they’re likely to happen, but because the consequences would be so dire if they did. Weitzman has passed away, but Wagner and others have carried on this argument long enough that it has begun to break through in mainstream climate economics. However, it leaves a key question unanswered: yes, the risk of tipping points raises the value of mitigation, but how much? It has never been quantified.Into that breach comes a new paper in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences (PNAS), from Wagner and a group of colleagues: Simon Dietz and Thomas Stoerk of the Grantham Research Institute on Climate Change, and James Rising of the University of Delaware. “Economic impacts of tipping points in the climate system” represents the first formal attempt to quantify the economic impacts of tipping point risks. The results are startling: the economic impact of carbon emissions is much higher than appreciated, as is the value of reducing emissions. Not that we needed much more evidence, but this study makes it clear that there is virtually no way we could overdo it on decarbonization. As Wagner told me when I called him to discuss the results, “I don't see a downside to doing too much too quickly.”The devilishly difficult task of quantifying risksThe PNAS authors adopt a common definition of tipping points: “subsystems of the Earth system that are at least subcontinental in scale and can be switched—under certain circumstances—into a qualitatively differe

This is it, folks! The home stretch. It’s time to pay attention, call your members of Congress, and mobilize your networks. Congress is working on what is likely to be its last big shot at climate change policy for a decade or more. If things go well, the legislation will include a clean energy standard (CES) and clean energy tax credits, which together would revolutionize the US electricity system. If things don’t go well, there will be no substantial climate legislation for many years to come.That’s the only question being decided: Will we get a CES and tax credits, or will we get nothing that will tackle fossil fuels this decade? That’s the binary. It’s time to focus.Looking around, it doesn’t seem like clean energy supporters, climate hawks, or the left more broadly really get that. So let’s talk about why this is such an important moment and what’s at stake. The reconciliation bill is likely the last chance for big federal climate legislationThe Democratic approach for a while now has been to proceed along dual tracks. On one track, there’s the bipartisan infrastructure bill, hammered out by a group of just over 20 senators from both parties. On the other track, there’s the budget reconciliation bill, which is meant to contain … everything else in Biden’s agenda. The former needs 60 votes; the latter can pass with 50 Democratic votes.This has always been a fraught and delicate strategy. It could crash and burn in any number of ways. But so far, at least, it is hanging together.The bipartisan group unveiled its bill this week; it is slowly inching toward a vote, though Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-Ky.) is doing everything he can to slow it down and gum it up. It contains decent chunks of money for things that will indirectly help clean energy — transmission, demonstration projects, R&D — but it lacks anything that will directly confront fossil fuels in the coming decade, the sine qua non of adequate climate policy. As Robinson Meyer argues in The Atlantic, it is not a climate bill, not really. There’s no guarantee the bipartisan bill will pass, and there’s no way to know how the Senate’s bipartisanship fetishists, Sens. Joe Manchin (D-W.V.) and Kyrsten Sinema (D-Ariz.), will react if it doesn’t.But whether it passes or not, when it comes to decent climate policy, it’s all about the reconciliation bill. There won’t be another bill this big while Democrats control Congress, and they won’t control Congress for long. What Democrats are able to get through in the reconciliation bill is likely to be the last big federal climate legislation for a decade at least. This is the key thing to understand, so I’m going to repeat it: What Democrats are able to get through in the reconciliation bill is likely to be the last big federal climate legislation for a decade at least.(You may be thinking: can’t Democrats do another reconciliation bill next year? Yes, they can, but the midterms will be in full swing, moderates will be feeling even more cowardly than usual, political appetite for big spending will have dried up in the face of a recovering economy, and focus will have turned, hopefully, to voting reform. This one is it.)Absent substantial federal voting reform — which is looking less and less likely, certainly nothing anyone should bet on — all signs point toward Republicans taking back the House in 2022. It’s unclear what will happen in the Senate, but regardless, if the GOP controls either house, no climate legislation will pass (and no voting reform). Republican presidential candidates can win despite larger and larger losses in the popular vote. And the chances of Democrats controlling both houses of Congress again are only getting dimmer. The structural advantages that favor the GOP in the US system are only tilting further in its favor, while the party is actively extending those advantages with a wave of voter-suppression laws at the state level and an accompanying wave of gerrymandering, which alone could win the GOP the House in 2022, even absent any Dem seats being lost. The GOP is protected in this endeavor by a hyper-conservative Supreme Court (which, by the way, could get even more conservative if the disastrously vain Stephen Breyer hangs on until there’s a Republican president again).The conservative movement in the US is attempting to engineer one-party control of US government (along the lines of their new hero, Hungarian autocrat Viktor Orban). There’s no way to know how successful the endeavor will ultimately be, but it’s a pretty good bet, given current trends, that Democrats won’t control the presidency and both houses of Congress at the same time again for a long while. Last time they lost full control (just before a wave of gerrymandering in 2010), it was a decade until they got it back.That all begins in January 2023 — which makes this year’s reconciliation bill the Democrats’ last big shot at climate and clean energy policy. There are two key clean-energy policies on the tab

(If you prefer listening to reading, just click Play above.)I’ve spent a lot of time on Volts discussing energy storage. As those who read my battery series know, lithium-ion batteries (LIB) currently dominate short-duration storage — in devices, cars, and buildings — and the durations they are able to economically provide are creeping up, from two to four to eight hours and beyond. However, as I explained in a separate post, the grid of the future, run primarily on renewable energy, will also need long-duration energy storage (LDES), capable of discharging energy for days or weeks. As that post covered, there are two basic challenges facing LDES. The first is technological: what sort of materials and processes can hold large amounts of energy for cheap?The second is economic: how can an LDES company make money? Currently, the role they propose to play on the grid (“firming” renewable energy) is being played by natural gas power plants. In a theoretical future clean-energy grid, those plants will be gone, or at least they will be saddled with the additional costs of carbon capture, but for now, they exist, and they are quite cheap. Consequently, there just isn’t much of a market for LDES, as battery industry veteran Cody Hill points out:A hot new startup called Form Energy believes it can overcome both challenges.Form Energy has the technology; now it needs customersI mentioned Form Energy in a previous post. The company — a kind of battery dream team, with Mateo Jaramillo (who built Tesla’s energy storage business), MIT’s Yet-Ming Chiang, and other veterans of previous battery companies — has finally revealed the battery it has been working on lo these many years. It uses iron as a cathode and air as an anode, in a process called “reversible rusting.” The best place to catch up on the news is Julian Spector’s piece. (Canary is doing amazing coverage of energy storage.) See also Russell Gold’s piece in the Wall Street Journal for deeper background on the company and its technology. Neither piece, however, gets deeply into the subject that most interests me, which is the second challenge: where to find markets. So I called Jaramillo to find out more. Not surprisingly, he sees a clear pathway to profitability. “We see a very compelling business environment for us over the next 10, 20, 30 years,” he says. “It's as much as we can go after, frankly.”Early markets for clean firmingIn terms of its function on the grid, the best way to think of Form’s battery is not as storage, but as the equivalent of a carbon-free natural gas plant. Rather than methane, it runs on renewable energy as fuel, but from the grid’s perspective, it provides basically the same service, which is reliable, dispatchable generation that can run for 100 hours or more when needed. The problem, as I said, is that natural gas is quite cheap. According to conventional wisdom, natural gas plants will dominate the firming game until policy begins driving them out of the system (or forcing them to install carbon capture). That’s what the models show: when decarbonization of the electricity grid (using mostly renewables and LIBs) goes past about 80 percent, costs begin to spike and more expensive clean firm options like LDES and nuclear become competitive. That conventional wisdom may be correct at the 30,000 foot level, but closer to the ground, things are much more complicated and varied. As Jaramillo notes, “there's no time at which the country will uniformly be at 80 percent renewables.” In fact, some nodes on the grid are close to that already. More to the point, Jaramillo says, there are a variety of situations in which grid operators need the services a natural gas plant provides but are leery about (or prohibited from) investing in gas.“Every single US coal plant in the system today has a retirement date on it,” he says, “and all of those dates are sooner than they were five years ago, and they will probably be sooner in two years than they are today.” That means lots of utilities around the country need to replace large chunks of power capacity.To date, they’ve been doing so with natural gas, but that may be changing. Remember, Form is not talking about entering the market in earnest until 2025. Between now and then, Jaramillo expects two macro trends to continue: first, renewables will keep getting cheaper and cheaper, and second, utilities will grow more wary of natural gas. “It's not full steam ahead to replace coal with natural gas,” he says. “Indiana [utility regulators] recently rejected a 850-megawatt combined-cycle gas plant and they specifically cited the risk of stranded assets.” Similar rejections of natural gas have taken place recently in Minnesota and Virginia. Great River Energy, a Minnesota-based electricity co-op, is hosting Form’s first demonstration project, a one-megawatt system capable of discharging for 150 hours continuously. Great River needs to replace lost coal capacity, but while they are under no statutory mandate

Fossil fuel subsidies are a vexed and peculiar topic. On one hand, everyone seems to agree they’re bad and should be eliminated (it’s in Biden’s jobs bill, for instance). On the other hand, they never go anywhere. In part, it’s because we lack a clear understanding of what constitutes a subsidy and what impact they have. Analysts are forever arguing over exactly what counts, trying to tally up the total subsidies fossil fuels receive, but there are very few bottom-up attempts to document the concrete effects of subsidies on the economics of oil and gas projects.That’s why I was interested in this new paper in Environmental Research Letters, by Ploy Achakulwisut and Peter Erickson of the Stockholm Environment Institute and Doug Koplow of Earth Track. It breaks down the effect of 16 specific, direct US fossil fuel subsidies on the profitability and emissions of US oil and gas production. As for those subsidies, there are three basic categories: “forgone government revenues through tax exemptions and preferences; transfer of financial liability to the public; and below-market provision of government goods or services.” (Note that this study does not get into unpriced environmental externalities like air pollution and greenhouse gases, which are themselves a kind of subsidy.)Subsidies either enrich oil & gas investors or spur new oil & gas projectsOne reason there aren’t many bottom-up analyses like this is that it’s devilishly difficult to pin down the economic effect of a subsidy. Doing so always involves a counterfactual baseline — what would have happened absent the subsidy. Anytime counterfactuals are involved, there lots of assumptions to make and variables to account for.To take just a couple of examples, the effect a subsidy will have on the decision whether to invest in a new oil and gas project will depend on oil and gas prices and the hurdle rate. (The hurdle rate is the rate of return investors require to fully cover risks; more aggressive decarbonization efforts will presumably mean more risk and thus a higher hurdle rate.) The study actually runs several different scenarios based on different values for those variables, producing a cost curve for each region of the US. It gets complicated.For clarity, they chose to highlight two scenarios: 2019’s higher oil and gas prices with a 10 percent hurdle rate and 2020’s lower prices with a 20 percent hurdle rate. Here are the results:We find that, at 2019 average market prices of oil and gas, the 16 subsidies could increase the average rates of return of yet-to-be-developed oil and gas fields by 55% and 68% over unsubsidized levels, respectively, with over 96% of subsidy value flowing to excess profits under a 10% hurdle rate. At lower 2020 prices, the subsidies could increase the average rates of return of new oil and gas fields by 63% and 78% over unsubsidized levels, respectively, with more than 60% of oil and gas resources being dependent on subsidies to be profitable under a 20% hurdle rate. The way to think about this is, subsidies can have one of two negative effects, depending on market circumstances. With higher prices and a lower hurdle rate, “only 4 percent of new oil and 22 percent of new gas resources would be subsidy-dependent, pushed into making profits,” Achakulwisut told me. That means most of the projects didn’t really need subsidies and the extra money is all going to bigger profit margins for oil and gas investors.With lower prices and a higher hurdle rate, “subsidies would matter a lot,” she says, “and 61 percent of new oil and 74 percent of new gas would be subsidy-dependent.” The subsidies would directly lead to more production. Achakulwisut summarizes: “In one case, it's going to profit, amplifying the incumbent status of the oil and gas industry. In another, under more aggressive decarbonization policy and low oil and gas prices, it's actively working against the climate goal by spurring additional production.”Either of those effects is bad. In 2021, we don’t want bigger profit margins for oil and gas companies and we don’t want more oil and gas production.One subsidy to rule them allWhat’s interesting is that the benefits to oil and gas are not spread evenly over different subsidies. In fact, one in particular dwarfs the others: the expensing of intangible exploration and development costs (“intangible drilling costs,” or IDC), a policy that’s been around for over a century.The chart below shows the “average effect of each subsidy on the internal rate of return (IRR) of new, not-yet-producing oil and gas fields, at average 2019 prices of USD2019 64/barrel of oil and USD2019 2.6/mmbtu of gas.”As you can see, in every region, the IDC deduction is the dominant subsidy. It “increases US-wide average IRR by 11 and 8 percentage points for oil and gas fields respectively.”The IDC deduction has been the subject of controversy for ages. The Committee for a Responsible Federal Budget (CRFB) has a good breakdown here. A definition: Intangib

In this episode, Rep. Sean Casten (D-Il.), the House Democrats’ resident clean-energy expert, discusses the importance of the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, the influence it has over US decarbonization, and the urgent need for Biden to appoint a new commissioner. We also get into our favorite FERC orders!Full transcript of Volts podcast featuring Rep. Sean Casten, July 28, 2021 (PDF version)David Roberts:Greetings. Welcome to the Volts Podcast. I am your host, David Roberts. As Volts subscribers are well aware, the fastest way to decarbonize the US economy is through clean electrification — decarbonizing the electricity sector and shifting energy use in other sectors like transportation and buildings over to electricity.How can the federal government help that process along? Most control over power utilities and markets lies at the state level. There's only one federal agency with real jurisdiction over electricity: the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, or FERC.FERC is not an agency people many people follow, or even know about — in fact, in the Volts household, it has become a kind of jokey shorthand for "the boring stuff dad writes about."But it could play a key role in implementing Biden's climate agenda. And it has come to a crucial crossroads. FERC has five commissioners. Currently, three are Republicans, but one of them, Neil Chatterjee, came to the end of his term on June 30. He has agreed to stay on temporarily because Biden, somewhat inexplicably, has yet to formally nominate anyone to replace him. Until he does, and the Senate confirms, the commission will not have a Democratic majority and won’t be able to get anything big done. That’s unfortunate, because FERC has lots of big decisions to make — about transmission, electricity rates, and markets — with potentially transformative consequences. But the agency moves slowly, with rulemakings taking months or years, and it only has three and a half years to get everything done. Biden needs to get someone in that seat.Enter Rep. Sean Casten. The Democrat from Illinois' 6th District, which includes wide swaths of the western suburbs of Chicago, is trying to draw attention to FERC and the importance of a bold and climate-minded new commissioner. He’s leading a communications campaign called "Hot FERC Summer," a twist on Megan Thee Stallion's "Hot Girl Summer." (Hey, nobody said getting eyes on FERC was easy.) Casten, a member of the House Select Committee on the Climate Crisis, recently delivered a floor speech filled with Stallion-related puns of varying cheesiness, calling on Biden and Dems to nominate and approve a new commissioner quickly. He has also co-authored bills on transmission siting and ratemaking that clarify and reinforce FERC's obligation to take climate change into account in its decisions.I have known Sean since the 2010s, when he was the CEO of a waste heat recovery company called Recycled Energy Development. His long experience in the clean energy industry informed some sharp analysis, and he occasionally wrote guest posts for my blog at Grist, the environmental news site I worked for at the time. As you can imagine, it was a delight to see him win a seat in Congress in 2018, bringing his deep energy expertise to a body that has often lacked it. I was excited to geek out with him about FERC and the state of congressional energy politics.Rep. Sean Casten, welcome to Volts! Rep. Sean Casten: So happy to be here, David. David Roberts:Sean, I knew you back when you reached the pinnacle of your career: I'm talking, of course, about when you were writing guest blog posts for me at Grist. Rep. Sean Casten:Really, it's been downhill for both of us since we left Grist. David Roberts: Suffice to say, you know more about energy than the average bear; probably considerably more, I would say, than the average congressperson. So before we get to FERC: When you got to Congress, would you say that the average clean-energy literacy of your colleagues in Congress was higher or lower than you expected going in? Rep. Sean Casten:Oh, that's the kind of question that could get me in trouble for throwing people under the bus, but let me maybe offer one of the best pieces of wisdom I got on getting sworn in. Jamie Raskin, who of course everybody knows now because of his work on impeachment, is just a wonderfully kind and decent person. And he said to me, when I was just sworn in and trying to figure out the ropes of this place, he said, “This is a job that makes you very broad, but it's very hard to have the time to get deep. And if you want to know how to get things done, ask people why they first ran, because that's a really good shorthand way to find out where people are deep. If you really want to do something on healthcare policy or criminal justice, it'll help to know who those are.” So I've tried to follow that policy. I've asked around, and I will tell you that I have not met a lot of people who said, “I ran because I care about energy po

In this episode, career environmental regulator Cynthia Giles discusses the rampant rule-breaking common in environmental rule and regulations and how to solve the problem — not with greater enforcement, but with smarter rule design.Full transcript of Volts podcast featuring Cynthia Giles, July 14, 2021(PDF Version)David Roberts:The US has hundreds of environmental rules and regulations on the books, meant to achieve various environmental goals — clean up coal plants, reduce toxins in consumer products, limit agricultural waste, and so on.Once these rules and regulations are put in place, most people don’t give them a lot of thought. To the extent they do, they tend to believe two things: one, that environmental rules are generally followed (maybe, what, 3-5 percent break the rules?), and two, that the answer to noncompliance is increased enforcement.According to Cynthia Giles, both those assumptions are dead wrong. Giles was head of EPA’s Office of Enforcement and Compliance Assurance for all eight years of Obama’s presidency — and had a long career in environmental enforcement before that — so she knows something about rules and enforcing them. Through the Harvard Environmental & Energy Law Program, where she is a guest fellow, Giles has been writing a series of pieces (which will be issued as a book in 2022) on “Next Generation Compliance: Environmental Regulation for the Modern Era.” In those pieces, she reveals that environmental rule-breaking is absolutely rampant — and that there’s surprisingly little increased enforcement can do about it. Instead, the key is to design rules better, such that compliance is the default choice.I’m a sucker for policy design, so I was eager to talk to Giles about what she’s learned, how to design rules well (or poorly), and most of all, the best way to design climate rules. With no further ado, welcome to Volts, Cynthia.I really enjoyed your articles. As I was saying on Twitter earlier, I love it when I discover an expert who's making a well-argued, well-cited argument in favor of something I believe already but didn't have the chops to defend myself. I feel vindication. There's a number of mind-blowing things in here, but one of the initial mind-blowing things that people don't understand very well is just how common violations and rule-breaking are. You spent eight years as head of EPA enforcement for Obama. I'm curious: before going into that position, did you know this about environmental rules? Cynthia Giles: This is certainly something I had strongly suspected for a long time. I've worked in the environmental enforcement arena for a long time and I persistently saw a mismatch between what I was seeing in the field and what I was hearing so many people say — that compliance with environmental rules was good. After I started in my position in the Obama administration, I asked folks to pull together everything we know about how compliance is with environmental rules. And I discovered that the evidence supported what I had suspected all along, which is that the rate of violations is substantially higher than most people think.David Roberts: What do we mean by substantially higher? Give us a sense of the scale here.Cynthia Giles: I'll give you the contrast between what's popularly believed and what the facts are. As I mentioned, I have spent most of my professional career in environmental and compliance-related work. During that time, including during the Obama administration, I've asked a lot of people what they think the rate of non-compliance with environmental law is. The most common answer I get, including from people who have also spent their entire professional careers working in this area, is 5 to 10 percent. That's what people think.It's nowhere near that. Not close. The rate of serious violations, the ones we care about the most, is 25 percent in most programs. And there are plenty of programs, I'm sorry to tell you, with rates substantially worse than that. It's not rare to find serious violation rates in the 70 percent and higher range. I want to make sure I'm clear: when I'm saying someone has serious violations, I'm not saying they're violating every single thing, every day, 24/7 — but they are having a lot of violations we care about, in terms of protecting people's health. So the rate is substantially worse than most people think. And that's just the ones we know about. There's plenty where the data is thin — indications are bad, but the data is not there to say anything definitive about it. David Roberts: There are all sorts of bad things about common violations, but the central bad thing is that we're not achieving the goals of these rules and regulations. If violations are 50 percent, you're getting 50 percent of what you think you're getting out of the rule, right?Cynthia Giles: There's a lot of areas where we know there are environmental problems — over 130 million people in the United States live in areas that don't meet the health standards for a

Last week, I wrote that there is no “moderate” position on climate change. Either we act rapidly and at massive scale to avoid the worst consequences … or we suffer the worst consequences. Either outcome involves radical change. There’s no avoiding radicalism. Lots of activists, politicians, and ordinary citizens understand this need for ambitious action — they are convinced by the scale and severity of the problem — but there is less clarity about what qualifies as ambitious. In an atmosphere of legislative scarcity, when tough decisions are being made and policies are being prioritized, what exactly should climate advocates be pushing for? What’s a simple way to distinguish between climate policy and good climate policy? In the great climate policy feast, what is the entrée and what are the side dishes?We lack a common framework for judging climate policy, which creates a fog in which dedicated advocates can lose focus and malefactors can get up to shenanigans. Within the fog, people tend to pick their favorite markers of climate commitment based on instinct and affective affiliation (shut down pipelines! ramp up nuclear power! impose a carbon tax!). What counts as good policy becomes a matter of identity rather than what would most effectively ratchet down carbon emissions. The fog allows weak and marginal policies to be branded as moderate, or, other times, to masquerade as radical. It leads activists to diffuse their energy, while core policies often don’t receive the coordinated support they need.We need to clear away the fog, fast. Policy decisions are being made over the next few weeks that will reverberate for decades. This is crunch time on climate policy and everyone who wants serious action needs to be (at least roughly) aligned.So I want to spend a few minutes laying out a simple framework to help people think about how to prioritize climate policies. It doesn’t cover everything, but it’s a pretty good rough-and-ready guide.Clean electrification is the entrée. Everything else is a side.How can the US hit net-zero emissions by or before 2050, a goal shared by almost every Democrat and, at least rhetorically, by some Republicans?The key is to immediately begin reducing emissions and maintain a rapid pace of reduction for the coming three decades. That is the only way we have a shot. If we wait another decade to start rapid reductions, the curve will simply be too steep. It has to start now. So we can think of the work in two parts. Job One is to rapidly push fossil fuels out of the system using technologies and strategies that we have on hand, such that we reduce carbon emissions by around 50 percent by 2030. Job Two is to research and develop the technologies and strategies we will need to continue rapidly reducing emissions from 2030 onward, such that we hit net-zero on or before 2050. Job Two is important. But Job One is the main thing. Job One is the entrée. Without it, you don’t have a meal. What does Job One consist of? This is important: while different climate models disagree about which policies and technologies will be needed to clean up remaining emissions after 2030, virtually all of them agree on what’s needed over the next decade. It’s clean electrification: * clean up the electricity grid by replacing fossil fuel power plants with renewable energy, batteries, and other zero-carbon resources;* clean up transportation by replacing gasoline and diesel vehicles — passenger vehicles, delivery trucks and vans, semi-trucks, small planes, agricultural and mining equipment, etc. — with electric vehicles; and* clean up buildings by replacing furnaces and other appliances that run on fossil fuels with electric equivalents.Or as I summarize it: electrify everything!Clean electrification is the entrée. If you decarbonize electricity, transportation, and buildings, you’ve taken out the three biggest sources of emissions in virtually every country. The technologies and policies we need to do it exist today, ready to deploy. Exactly how much of the US economy can be decarbonized through clean electrification is an open question. Saul Griffith of Rewiring America is an optimist. He thinks electrification can reduce between 70 and 80 percent of US emissions by 2035, and probably in the 90s eventually. (Listen to my podcast with Griffith.)We’ll see. Today, there are all sorts of edge cases that are difficult to electrify — bigger trucks, airplanes, trains, ships, steel, concrete, a variety of high-heat industrial applications — that might be easier with cheaper zero-carbon electricity and a decade of innovation. There’s no way to know in advance how far electrification can get, though it’s worth noting that critics have underestimated it at every stage thus far. Regardless, whether it can ultimately get at 60 or 90 percent, clean electrification will do the bulk of the work reducing emissions over the next decade. It is the entrée.None of this is to diminish the scale and difficulty of Job Two — all

In this episode, longtime activist Tzeporah Berman discusses the need to track and reduce fossil fuel production (not just consumption) and the Fossil Fuel Non-Proliferation Treaty that she and other activists created to help coordinate those efforts. Full transcript of Volts podcast featuring Tzeporah Berman, July 7, 2021(PDF version)David Roberts:For as long as I've been covering climate change, it's been conventional wisdom among economists — and the kind of people who aspire to please economists — that the proper focus of climate policy is on demand. We must reduce demand for fossil fuels, the argument goes, otherwise any supply we shut down will just pop up somewhere else.Activists have always disagreed with this logic. For many of them, the fight against climate change is a fight for places — specific places, with histories, peoples, and ecosystems — and every fossil fuel project is, in some way or another, an assault on a place. Over the last decade, more economists and policy wonks have come around to their way of thinking, questioning both the economics and the sociology of the demand-focused conventional wisdom. As things stand now, wealthy fossil fuel–producing countries are making grand emission reduction commitments while continuing to ramp up production. All that fossil fuel has to go somewhere. It creates its own set of commitments and investments, its own momentum.My guest today, Canadian activist Tzeporah Berman, has been fighting for places since grunge and flannel were big. There is no way to do her resume justice in a short intro, or else I would never get to the podcast, but here are some highlights.In the 1990s, she fought clear-cutting projects with blockades and civil disobedience. In 2000, she co-founded ForestEthics, which uses clever communications campaigns to shame companies into using less old-growth wood. In 2004, she turned to climate change, founding her own nonprofit advocacy group, PowerUp, to defend BC’s carbon tax; in 2010 she became co-director of Greenpeace International's 40-country climate and energy program, where she led its storied Arctic and Volkswagen campaigns; in 2015, she was appointed to the BC government’s Climate Leadership Team to advise on climate policy; in 2016, she was appointed as co-chair of the Alberta government’s Oil Sands Advisory Group. She also led the effort to secure the Great Bear Rainforest agreement, which protects more than 40 million hectares of old growth forest. Her activism continues today — she was just arrested in May defending old growth forests on unceded Pacheedaht and Ditidaht Territories on Vancouver Island, BC.Anyway! In 2019, Berman received the Climate Breakthrough Project Award from a coalition of foundations, which came with $2 million to create “breakthrough global strategies” on climate change. She used the money on a project she’s been thinking about for a while: the Fossil Fuel Non-Proliferation Treaty. The IPCC is clear: there are already enough fossil fuels in known reserves to blow the world past its 1.5°C temperature limit. Yet fossil fuel production continues to increase.Fossil fuels have become a threat to all of humanity, as nuclear weapons are, and just as with nuclear weapons, Berman believes we need a global agreement to cap their growth and ramp them down. The Fossil Fuel Non-Proliferation Treaty is meant to be a template for such an agreement.Though the treaty is relatively new, it has already been signed by nine cities and subnational governments, more than 480 organizations, and over 12,000 individuals, including a wide array of academics, researchers, and scientists.I called Berman to hear more about the need to address fossil fuel supply, the motivations behind the treaty, and where it might go in the future. Tzeporah, welcome to Volts.Tzeporah Berman:Thank you. David Roberts:I'm so happy to have you here. It seems like the last time we talked was either a few years ago or 100 years ago.Tzeporah Berman: It definitely feels like a very long time ago, but so does last week. Time is fungible right now.David Roberts:Time is meaningless. OK, so I want to talk to you about many things, including the Fossil Fuel Non-Proliferation Treaty. But before that, I'd like to just hear a little bit about what pulled you into all of this. You were born into a middle class Jewish family in London, Ontario, and went to school originally for fashion design, yes? Tzeporah Berman: You’ve been digging far back!David Roberts:And you were even lauded, even won some fashion-y awards -- then took a sharp left turn. So what in your youth pulled you toward environmental activism?Tzeporah Berman: Like a lot of my privileged generation, I took a trip to Europe, with a Let’s Go Europe in my hand and a train ticket, in my first year of university, in the summer, and at the time my dream was to go to the Acropolis. I was studying Art and Art History and Fashion Arts Design because I had to have a career and all I wanted to do was art. T

Perhaps the most politically difficult aspect of climate change is that, after decades of denial and delay, there is no longer any coherent “moderate” position to be had. To allow temperatures to rise past 1.5° or 2°C this century is to accept unthinkable disruption to agriculture, trade, immigration, public health, and basic social cohesion. To hold temperature rise to less than 1.5° or 2°C this century will require enormous, heroic decarbonization efforts on the part of every wealthy country. Either of those outcomes is, in its own way, radical. There is no non-radical future available for the US in decades to come. Our only choice is the proportions of the mix: action vs. impacts. The less action we and other countries take to address the threat, the more impacts we will all suffer. Politicians who hamper the effort to decarbonize and increase resilience are not moderates. They are effectively choosing a mix of low action and high impacts — ever-worsening heat waves, droughts, floods, and hurricanes. There is nothing moderate about that, certainly nothing conservative. For years, climate scientists, advocates, and activists have been trying to get politicians to understand this about climate change: that indifference and inaction are not neutral. Every day that goes by, more damages are baked in and getting the problem under control is more difficult. The cost of preventing future impacts is tiny relative to the cost, in lives and money, of adapting to them. The only way to conserve what Americans love in this country is to act aggressively to limit carbon emissions, commercialize clean-energy technologies, and wind down fossil fuel production — and help other countries to do the same. To do less means to conserve less, to accept more loss. Has the Democratic Party taken this message to heart? We’re going to find out in coming weeks. I’m going to describe some political forces that threaten to limit or constrain Democrats’ climate ambitions in favor of “moderation” and then take a closer look at the political drama going on in DC these days around infrastructure. We’re about to get an unusually clear test case of Democrats’ commitment to climate policy.The right is creating a new “other side” in the climate debatePretty much every demographic outside of hard-core conservatives is concerned about climate change and wants to address it — most notably young people, who aren’t exactly flocking to the GOP these days. A few people on the right are belatedly and begrudgingly recognizing this fact and its electoral implications.Lisa Friedman of The New York Times brings news of a budding Republican climate caucus. The story is hilarious and sad and worth reading, but here is the nut of it:“There is a recognition within the G.O.P. that if the party is going to be competitive in national elections, in purple states and purple districts, there needs to be some type of credible position on climate change,” said George David Banks, a former adviser to President Trump …So, at least some Republicans think science denialism is no longer working and the party needs “some type of credible position on climate change.” The question is, what is the minimum viable position? What’s the least they can do while appearing to do something?Here is the party’s opening gambit:A package of bills [House Minority Leader Kevin] McCarthy [R-CA] introduced on Earth Day championed carbon capture, a nascent and expensive technology that catches carbon emissions generated by power plants or factories and stores them before they escape into the atmosphere. It also promoted tree planting and expansion of nuclear energy, a carbon-free power source that many Republicans prefer over wind or solar energy.Friedman rightly notes that these policies would do very little to reduce emissions. But she also calls them “limited government, free-market policies,” which is a bit of right-wing spin we ought to reject. Carbon capture is entirely dependent on government subsidies and regulatory support. So is nuclear power. So is large-scale reforestation. These are all the very opposite of limited government.What unites these proposals is that they can plausibly be said to address climate change in some way or another, but they do nothing to limit or otherwise inconvenience GOP donors, especially fossil fuel companies. In fact, carbon capture can be viewed — and likely is viewed by Republicans — explicitly as a bid to protect fossil fuels from climate policy.Remember, the problem for which Republicans are solving is not climate change but the need to be seen as having “some type of credible position” on climate change, enough for suburban voters to reassure themselves that the GOP is not unreasonable on the issue — that there are once again two legitimate sides. Science denial looks ugly and extreme. But rhetoric about “small-government solutions” that are more sensible than the “tax and spend” Democratic alternatives? Well, that’s as soothing and familiar as

In this episode, Saul Griffith (co-founder of Rewiring America) and Arch Rao (founder and CEO of Span, which makes smart electrical panels) discuss the need to electrify US homes, the challenges standing in the way, the kinds of solutions that will ease the process, and much more.Full transcript of Volts podcast featuring Saul Griffith and Arch Rao, June 28, 2021 (PDF version)David Roberts:Those of you who have been reading or listening to Volts for a while know that I am fairly obsessed with clean electrification, which involves shifting all the things we do now with fossil fuels over to electric equivalents (while cleaning up electricity supply).One important nexus of electrification is the residential sector. US homeowners are in a position to electrify their power supply (with solar panels), their heating and cooling (with heat pumps), and their transportation (with electric vehicles). How can we induce millions of them to make the decision to electrify, starting today? How can we make it cheaper and easier for them? To discuss that and related issues, I was excited to connect with two of the smartest people working in this space. The first is analyst, inventor, tinkerer, and entrepreneur Saul Griffith, who will be familiar to longtime readers — I've cited his work numerous times, especially his most recent work with Rewiring America, which advocates for rapid electrification. There is probably no one on earth with a better understanding of the US energy system. (He’s got a book on electrification coming out in October.)Griffith is a backer of and investor in a startup called Span, which makes smart electrical panels that offer homeowners fine-grained control over all their individual appliances, lights, and devices (via an app on their phones, of course). The founder and CEO of Span, my other guest, is Arch Rao. Rao was the project lead for Tesla's Powerwall home battery before leaving to start Span, so it goes without saying that he is intimately familiar with the technical and economic challenges of home electrification.Welcome to Volts, Saul and Arch! Saul, I want to start with you. We're going to talk about home electrification today, and just by way of setting context — it's pretty easy to make the case that home electrification is fun, it's cool. But what is the case that it is necessary, and not only necessary, but necessary quickly? Set the bigger picture for us.Saul Griffith: There's a few components to that. Let's start with the climate component: the urgency. There's a concept called committed emissions — that is the emissions that a machine that exists today will emit while it lives out its lifetime. So if you bought a petrol or gasoline car last year, it'll keep burning gasoline for another 20 years; if you bought a natural gas furnace last year, it'll keep burning natural gas for 25 years; a hot water heater, 15 years; an oven burning natural gas, another 12 years. So those are committed emissions, the same as a new coal plant opening last year would go on operating for another 50 years. We now know that if all of the machines that exist on the planet today live out their natural life, the committed emissions of those machines take us to about 1.8 degrees Celsius, over three degrees Fahrenheit of warming. So the practical reality is every time any of our machines fails or needs to be replaced, we need to upgrade it with a zero-carbon option. And the only real zero-carbon option that has emerged is electrification, and that's electrification of our heat with heat pumps, of our vehicles with electric vehicles, and then tying that all together and balancing the grid.David Roberts: Right. And what chunk of emissions comes from residential? Saul Griffith: Historically, we put emissions into sectors: residential, commercial, industrial, and transportation. The residential sector is responsible for 10 or 15 percent of total emissions, by that measure, but it's actually much higher than that because in reality, you make the decision about your car and your home. And when we electrify our cars, they're going to be charged at home. And then today, as it stands, a huge amount of our economy in the U.S. — close to 10% — is used to find, mine and refine fossil fuels, so that's the pipelines and the trains moving coal. And that's all filed under industrial emissions. So if you wrap up your pro rata share of that in your household, you wrap up the electrification of your vehicles, the decisions you make around your kitchen table are actually about 40 or 42 percent of our total emissions. In our small businesses and offices, what's traditionally known as the commercial sector, it's about another 20 percent. As I like to say now, there's two types of emissions. There's a small number of big machines, and there's a large number of small machines. The small number of big machines is a few hundred coal plants and a few hundred LNG terminals and a few hundred oil tankers, but the real game in town is the 200

Here at Volts, I recently spent a week … OK, a month writing about batteries, which store energy for electronic devices, electric vehicles, and, at least for short periods of time (four to six hours), the power grid.Lithium-ion batteries are extremely good at those tasks — and they’re getting better, and cheaper, all the time.But here’s the thing: a net-zero-carbon grid is going to need storage that lasts a lot longer than six hours. It’s going to need durations of up to 100, 300, 500 hours or more, and it’s going to need them cheap. Lithium-ion batteries just aren’t going to work for that. What will work? Good question! No one really knows yet. Whatever it is will require substantial research, development, and scaling, and possibly some good geographical luck. We can’t know yet what technology or technologies might win that race, but we do have a good sense of what they need to accomplish, thanks to some new research in Nature Energy from a team at MIT (along with Jesse Jenkins, who used to be at MIT but is now at Princeton). Their findings on long-duration energy storage (LDES) are daunting and somewhat deflationary. In a nutshell: LDES needs to get extremely cheap before it will play a substantial role in a clean grid — cheaper than almost any candidate technology today, and cheaper than any geographically unconstrained technology is likely to get any time soon. Let’s start with some background on the need for LDES.Renewables on the grid need firmingThe cheapest large-scale renewable energy sources are wind and solar, but wind and solar are variable. They come and go with the sun and the wind, and as you may have heard, the sun is not always shining and the wind is not always blowing. We cannot turn them on or off, up or down.The supply of wind and solar energy will not always match the “demand curve,” i.e., the level of electricity demand throughout the day. As more and more wind and solar are added to the grid, there’s more and more need for flexible resources that can fill the gaps when supply doesn’t match demand.Today, those gaps are overwhelmingly filled by natural gas power plants, which are 100 percent “firm” in that they can be turned on at will and run as long as necessary. As the grid is decarbonized, however, fossil fuel plants (at least those without carbon capture) will be phased out of the electricity system and wind and solar penetration will increase. As that happens, other resources will be needed to firm the system. There are four basic options.* Transmission: connecting larger geographical areas raises the chances that sun or wind will be available somewhere within them.* Low-carbon (“clean”) firm generation: the MIT team’s paper lists “nuclear, fossil fuels with carbon capture and storage (CCS), bioenergy, geothermal, or hydrogen and other fuels produced from low-carbon processes.” (The first three items are anathema to some climate activists, but they may end up being necessary.)* Negative emissions technologies (NETs): technologies that permanently bury carbon dioxide can offset emissions from firm fossil fuel plants. * Long-duration energy storage (LDES): technologies that can store enough energy, for long enough, to displace firm generation. (Note: natural gas power plants are much cheaper than any of these options, save perhaps some transmission. There will be no market or pressure for any of them unless there are policies that require reduced greenhouse gases.)NETs are likely to stay expensive and transmission can only do so much, so the real fight is likely to be between clean firm generation and LDES. The new research is an extremely detailed modeling look at the role LDES might play in a decarbonized energy grid — how much clean firm generation it might displace and how much it might reduce energy system costs.The LDES “design space”The researchers took an interesting and (to me at least) somewhat novel approach. The problem with trying to study LDES is that a bunch of incredibly heterogenous technologies are claiming that mantle, with different mechanisms and different performance characteristics, at different levels of development and commercialization, competing for different market niches. It can be difficult to compare them or to say anything meaningful about them as a class. So instead of focusing on particular technologies, the researchers modeled different combinations of performance characteristics. Specifically, they used a high-resolution model to represent five separate LDES technology parameters:1) energy storage capacity cost (using a bathtub as an analogy, think of the cost of increasing the size of the tub); 2) charge power capacity cost (cost of enlarging the faucet); 3) discharge power capacity cost (cost of enlarging the drain); 4) charge efficiency (how much water is lost when filling the tub), and 5) discharge efficiency (how much water is lost when draining the tub).Here’s how they went about it:We modelled a total of 1,280 discrete combinations of thes

Long-time readers know that I am a veteran hater of the US Senate, the graveyard of good ideas and progressive policies. America’s upper chamber is one of the world’s least productive and most ridiculous legislative bodies, its dysfunctions matched only by its boundless self-regard. Don’t get me started.Instead, get Adam Jentleson started! Now there’s a guy who has earned his ire at the Senate. As a senior aide to Democratic leader Harry Reid from 2011 to 2016, Jentleson saw up close and personal how the institution’s antiquated rules (especially the filibuster) can be weaponized against reformers. He shared what he learned in a book that came out earlier this year: Kill Switch: The Rise of the Modern Senate and the Crippling of American Democracy. I didn’t want to have Jentleson rehash the book — it has been favorably reviewed and he has been on every podcast under the sun to discuss it — but I was quite interested in his thoughts on the current Senate standoff. Are Democrats going to let the filibuster prevent them from keeping their promises, improving people’s lives, and getting reelected … again? Are they going to allow a small handful of conservative Democratic senators to squelch a once-in-a-decade chance at legislating … again? Can that still be prevented, and if so, how?Basically, I asked him to explain Joe Manchin to me. Enjoy.(Anthony Cheng)David RobertsHey there, welcome to Volts. I'm your host, David Roberts. Lots of people these days feel a deep scorn and antipathy toward the US Senate, one of the most dysfunctional and ridiculous legislative bodies in the world. I very much include myself in that number. But few people have done as much to earn their antipathy as Adam Jentleson, who worked in the bowels of the Senate as a Deputy Chief of Staff for Democratic Majority Leader Harry Reid from 2011 to 2016 – the fateful final years of Obama's two terms. Jentleson got an up close and personal look at all the ways that the rules of the Senate are stacked against reformers, especially the filibuster. He shared what he learned in a new book that came out earlier this year: Kill Switch: The Rise of the Modern Senate and the Crippling of American Democracy. I know that this newsletter is supposed to be about clean energy; I have not forgotten that, I promise. But US democracy is falling apart around us, and it's got me rather preoccupied. So I thought it would be nice to talk to Jentleson, not so much about this in its ugly past, although we will touch on that a little bit, as much as its current politics. What's going on there today, and what can we expect? Basically, I want him to explain Joe Manchin to me. So with that, welcome to Volts, Adam.Adam JentlesonThank you so much. It's great to be here.David RobertsSo as we speak, just a few minutes ago, we found out that the Senate Republicans are in fact expected to filibuster the creation of a commission to investigate the January 6th insurrection. This seems like a straightforwardly reactionary move. You know, as I look back on the last few uses of the filibuster, they seem straightforwardly reactionary. You go back a little further to the 60s and 70s, and it was used in pretty straightforwardly reactionary purposes then. Has the filibuster always been a straightforwardly reactionary tool? Or is there anything that a Democrat could point to and say, “Look, it works for us too!” or “Look, there are reasons for us to support it going forwards.” Has it ever worked for Democrats?Adam JentlesonWell, I’m going to give you a yes and no answer there. I think the filibuster was reactionary from the very beginning. It was conceived of as a reactionary tool. It was not supposed to exist – it didn't exist for the first half century or so of the Senate's existence. It came into existence largely to empower, not vulnerable minorities to protect them from being trampled by the mob, but rather to increase the power of already powerful minorities, who wanted to have even more power, and in most cases, to stop the marching progress of the majority.The number one powerful minority that the filibuster was invented to protect was slaveholders in the antebellum period. We could talk about this more, but it was first just this talking filibuster, and there was no super majority threshold. I think something that's really important to understand, that is easy to get lost because of our bias towards the new, is that the Senate was a majority rule body for most of its existence for 200 plus years. It was really only recently that the super majority threshold, this idea that things need 60 votes to pass, started to become frequently used at all. So all that is to say, that it was reactionary in its invention.David RobertsSo is it fair to say that all this stuff about protecting the rights of the minority and ensuring the small states have a voice and all that is sort of reverse engineered? The original Senate preceded those rationales?Adam JentlesonThat's right. I mean, a lot of

(If you’d rather listen than read, just click Play above.)Energy nerds love arguing over the value of distributed energy resources (DERs), the rooftop solar panels and customer-owned batteries that are growing more popular by the day. There’s a fight in California right now over the value of energy from rooftop solar, just the latest skirmish in a long war that has ranged over numerous states. The conventional wisdom in wonk circles is that the value provided by DERs is not sufficient to overcome the fact that the energy they produce is, on a per-kWh basis, much more expensive than that produced by utility-scale solar, wind, and batteries (residential solar is roughly 2.5 times as expensive as utility-scale solar, according to NREL).For that reason, many wonks view DERs as a kind of boutique energy and argue that public funds are better spent on utility-scale energy. Turns out: no, that’s wrong. Some groundbreaking new modeling demonstrates that the value of DERs to the overall electricity system is far greater than has typically been appreciated. The work didn’t get the attention it deserved when it came out in late December, so I want to spend some time with it. First, though, let’s get clear on what we’re talking about.The misguided battle between centralized and distributed energyTo understand the difference between centralized and distributed energy, it’s important to understand the distinction between transmission grids, the high-voltage power lines that carry electricity over longer distances, and distribution grids, the nests of low-voltage power lines (strung from the familiar brown poles) that carry electricity to local consumers. If the transmission grid is the interstate highway system of electricity, distribution grids are the local road systems that branch off those main trunks. Centralized energy generally refers to utility-scale power generators (or energy storage) hooked up directly to the transmission grid: coal or natural gas plants, wind farms, solar fields, grid-scale battery stacks, what have you. The big stuff.Distributed energy consists of anything that generates, stores, or manages electricity on distribution grids: rooftop solar panels, ground-mounted “community solar” arrays, consumer batteries, electric vehicles, building energy management software, and the like. (And then there’s truly distributed energy, in the form of off-grid installations that don’t connect to any larger grid. We won’t be getting into that today.)To paint in broad and somewhat crude strokes, advocates for centralized renewable energy tend to view advocates for distributed energy as crunchy pastoral proto-hippies who can’t handle modernity. They note that utility-scale energy is cheaper and capable of powering highly energy-dense modern economies, whereas distributed energy is expensive and diffuse. Advocates for distributed energy tend to view advocates for centralized energy as corporate capitalists in thrall to perpetual growth. They note that distributed energy brings a range of benefits, from resilience and independence to savings on avoided infrastructure, whereas utility-scale energy tends to do greater damage to landscapes and concentrate economic power.Like many disputes in the energy world, this one has hardened into an identity battle, which is annoying and unproductive, since the answer, like with so many other disputes, is both-and.Nonetheless, it’s worth noting that advocates for distributed energy have been at something of a disadvantage to date. It can be devilishly difficult to quantify the benefits of DERs, so a lot of the discussion gets into hand-wavey intangibles.It can be especially difficult to quantify the benefits of DERs to larger grid systems, because energy modeling to date has effectively ignored distribution grids (which represent about a third of US spending on electricity). It has treated them purely as load, as demand to be satisfied, rather than as active, flexible participants in grid management. Until now! Or, until a few months ago anyway. In December, energy modeler Christopher Clack (a familiar name to Volts readers) and his team at Vibrant Clean Energy (VCE) debuted a new way to model the energy system that takes into account DERs and the services they provide. They used it to study the effect of DERs on the electricity system and the results are summarized in “A New Roadmap for the Lowest Cost Grid.” (Full technical report here; slideshow presentation here.)Spoiler: the cheapest possible carbon-free US grid involves vastly more centralized renewable energy, but it also involves vastly more distributed energy. What’s more, far from being alternatives, they are complements: the more DERs you put in place, the more centralized renewables you can put on the system. DERs are a utility-scale renewable accelerant. The practical implication is that going all out on DERs is to everyone’s benefit, up and down the electricity supply chain, from utilities to consumers. It is diffi

I have been reading Will Wilkinson’s writing since I was a baby blogger, way back in the early 2000s. By then, I had already left behind the libertarianism that gripped me in college, but Will was still a professional libertarian at the Cato Institute. I disagreed with him about many things, but I always found him rigorous and engaging.Over the years, I’ve followed as he’s moved from Cato to the center-right Niskanen Center (where he got canceled) to, now, the Progressive Policy Institute, where he is a senior fellow. In the process he left behind libertarianism for “liberaltarianism” and now some some kind of synthesis that doesn’t quite have a name but lands in the vicinity of social democrat, with an emphasis on small-d democracy.And of course, like everyone who’s anyone, he has his own newsletter: Model Citizen.There’s something nice about following a mind you admire as it tries to work its way toward higher and better understanding — it is so rare these days to witness anyone change their minds about anything — and there’s something especially nice when it ends up converging with your own thinking. I feel much more confident about things I believe when Will articulates them.Both Will and I have come to spend less time thinking about what might be the correct or optimal political philosophy and more time thinking about the workaday challenges of pluralism and democracy: how people of different cultures, ethnicities, genders, beliefs, and personalities, whose disagreements and conflicts are unlikely ever to be entirely resolved, can live together in relative peace.All of which is to say, I’ve wanted to talk politics with Will forever. We got around to it a few weeks ago and now I’ve finally got the thing produced. If you're in the mood for almost two hours of nerdy talk about Ayn Rand, rationalism, freedom, social insurance, the relationship between markets and government, and the perils of pluralism, strap on those headphones and travel along. (Note: several times in the pod I say “non-zero” when I mean “non–zero sum,” which bugs me now, but what can you do.)VOLTSD: Hello, welcome to volts. I am your host, David Roberts. Today I'm excited, as I have as a guest Will Wilkinson who is currently a senior scholar at the Progressive Policy Institute, which is sure to be of some amusement to those who have followed Will's career which began at the extremely different Cato Institute. So rather than try to explain Will’s whole history, which we're going to get into, I'll just say that I've been reading Will’s work for years now, and have been following his intellectual and political journey that he's been on, which has paralleled my own in a lot of ways. And so I thought I would talk with him about that journey, and about where he's ended up, and how we move forward in American politics from now. So we're taking on all the big questions today. So thanks for coming, Will, we appreciate you being on. WW: Thanks, Dave. I'm ready. DR: So before getting into the meat of things, just start by telling us a little bit about where you're from and how the story of Will Wilkinson that ended with you being a young, teenage Ayn Rand enthusiast, what's the what's the origin story?WW: Well, I was born the child of a poor sharecropper. Just kidding. That's, yeah, that's The Jerk. which describes me pretty well.I grew up in a little town in the middle of Iowa - Marshall town - it’s a small city of about 27,000 people. It's the county seat. So that makes it locally important. And it's exactly the same size as it was when I grew up there, which is interesting, because the composition of the population is very different today, but I moved there when I was five, because my dad had taken a job as the chief of police. So my entire childhood my dad was the chief of police in my hometown. My mother was a nurse for a large part of my childhood, she stayed at home, but she also worked as an obstetrics nurse and a home health nurse when I was a little bit older. I’ve got two older sisters. You know, go Bobcats. I don't know, what do you want to know about?DR: It's so American. Well, it's a small town, the chief police dad, the nurse Mom, it's, you know,WW: It's like, I really liked encyclopedia brown books because his dad was a police chief and his mom was a nurse. I grew up in a John Cougar Mellencamp song, I even would suck down chili dogs outside the Tasty Freeze, for real. So, one of the things that I find interesting, and I've been working for a long time on a book proposal of a version of this density divide paper that I wrote a couple of years ago. And I've been using my hometown as a model of things that have changed in the economy and how that's affected where people settle. And I didn't know when I was a kid that I was enjoying peak Marshalltown, Iowa; it was as good as it ever was in its existence. And it was as good as it was ever going to be. You know, it was a really healthy, vital little town with small manufacturers. The sc

It is now widely agreed among energy wonks that the fastest, cheapest way to reduce greenhouse gas emissions is to, as I like to put it, electrify everything. That means cleaning up the electricity system while shifting other energy uses — especially transportation and buildings — off of fossil fuels, onto electricity.When it comes to electrification, one technology in particular sits at the nexus, helping to decarbonize the electricity system, vehicles, and buildings all at once. I'm speaking, of course, of the humble solar photovoltaic panel, a technology that has defied predictions for decades, getting cheaper and cheaper, spreading faster and faster.But the spread of solar panels is just the leading edge of a much larger, more important shift to electrified homes and communities. As I've followed electrification and all its implications, one of the people I've learned the most from, in conversation and through her writing, is Lynn Jurich. In addition to being an insightful observer of the US energy system, Jurich also happens to be the co-founder and CEO of America's largest residential solar company. Sunrun has been around since 2007 and seen some ups and downs, but lately it has been all ups. The company adapted relatively quickly to the pandemic shutdown, invested heavily, and had a banner year in 2020. Then, to top it off, it bought Vivint, its leading competitor, for $3.2 billion. It is now sitting at the top of a burgeoning residential solar market, with a valuation of some $22 billion.I talked with Jurich about her new deal with Ford, the reason US residential solar costs twice what it costs in Germany, the ways distributed energy can help the grid, and the next steps for electrification. Thanks to her for coming on and to you for listening. If you value this kind of work, please consider becoming a paid Volts subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.volts.wtf/subscribe

As you might have gathered from the name, when Battery Week began … a month ago, I did not anticipate it going on quite so long. Since it has dragged out a bit, I thought it might be helpful to pull everything together in one place.If you click play above, you will find a lithium-ion battery megapod: all the battery pieces read aloud, plus the podcast with Chloe Holzinger, strung together into one three-hour-long beast.Links to all the pieces:* Why lithium-ion batteries are so important* A primer on lithium-ion batteries: how they work and how they are changing* The many varieties of lithium-ion batteries battling for market share* Competitors to lithium-ion batteries in the grid storage market* Volts podcast: battery analyst Chloe Holzinger on possible futures for lithium-ionAs always, thank you for reading and listening. If you value this kind of work, please consider becoming a paid subscriber to Volts. Forest says Happy Spring! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.volts.wtf/subscribe

Welcome back, my Volts friends, to the Battery Week that never ends. (Just kidding — this is the last of it.) For several weeks now, I have had my head buried in batteries, specifically, lithium-ion batteries: how they work, why they have taken over so fast, what different varieties are competing for which markets, and where innovation will take them in the future.Even with as many PDFs as I’ve read, I'm still learning every day just how much I don't know. I'm not going to lie: I still have the Wikipedia page for lithium-ion batteries open in a tab.So I thought it would be nice to round out battery week with someone who actually knows what they're talking about. To that end, I was happy to chat with Chloe Holzinger, a battery analyst at IHS Markit. (At least, that’s what she was when I spoke with her, and how I introduce her on the pod; since then, she’s become an Investment Associate with The Engine, a venture capital firm spun out of MIT.)Chloe keeps up with lithium ion batteries for a living, so I was eager to talk with her about the growing market, the raw materials that make up batteries and their possible supply problems, the coolest new innovations in batteries, from solid state to liquid metal, and much more. She was generous with her time and I learned a ton. Enjoy.David Roberts Hello, everyone, this is Volts and I am your host, David Roberts. For several weeks now, I have had my head buried in batteries, specifically, lithium ion batteries: how they work, why they have taken over so fast, what different varieties are competing for which markets, and where innovation will take them in the future. Even with as many PDFs as I have under my belt now, I'm still learning every day just how much I don't know. I'm not going to lie, listeners, I still have the Wikipedia page for lithium ion batteries open in a tab. So I thought it would be nice to round out battery week with someone who actually does know what they're talking about. To that end, I am joined today by Chloe Holzinger, a battery analyst with the clean energy technology and renewables team at IHS Market, a research and analysis firm. Chloe keeps up with lithium ion batteries for a living. So I was eager to talk with her about the growing market, the raw materials that make up batteries and their possible supply problems, the coolest new innovations in batteries, from solid state to liquid metal and much more. She was generous with our time and I learned a ton. So without further ado, let's get to the conversation.Welcome, Chloe. Thanks for coming on Volts.Chloe HolzingerThanks, David. Thanks for having me.David Roberts All right, let's start maybe just a little bit by telling us how you ended up in the battery area studying batteries, analyzing batteries in the battery market. It's a strange niche field; how'd you end up there?Chloe Holzinger Yeah, I sort of fell into it by accident, as so many people do. I got my undergraduate degree in Marine Chemistry and my master's degree in Mechanical Engineering, and happened to find the one startup in the Boston area that was developing batteries for underwater applications. So I joined them as employee number six, got a patent, and worked for them until they got acquired by a defense contractor. I then hopped over to the market intelligence field, where I've been covering the broader next generation battery technology area, and the various end applications for batteries. And I've been here ever since.David Roberts How long has that been? How long have you been immersed in batteries? Chloe Holzinger Total, including the startup experience, is probably about five years.David Roberts It's been an active time in that field! Let's just briefly talk about what lithium ion batteries are and where they came from. I think everybody's heard of them. At this point, they've kind of gotten a lot of hype, but maybe tell us when they entered the market, their market development and why they're kind of reaching this crescendo of hype right now. Chloe Holzinger Sure. So I can provide a very brief history here. Lithium ion batteries were kind of invented separately at different stages by different companies. If I remember correctly, Kodak did some innovation on actual tape casting, which is the process that's used to actually make lithium ion batteries. Some of the core lithium ion battery technology itself was actually developed at Exxon way back when; they just kind of sat on that. Then some other different key breakthroughs were also developed at different corporations; I think Sony was one of them as well. I may apologize if I got any of that wrong. But they really were initially commercialized for the consumer electronics industry. Then smartphones and computing power got much better, laptops became more commonplace, they were able to eventually make the jump from consumer electronics and these small applications, to electric vehicles, whether you're talking about a Tesla or Toyota hybrid, lithium ion batteries ha

(If you don’t want to read, you can listen! Just click play above.)Hello! Welcome back to Battery Week here at Volts … where we use the term “week” somewhat loosely.Up to now, we’ve been focusing on lithium-on batteries (LIBs) — why they are so important, how they work, and the varieties of LIBs that are battling it out for the biggest battery market, electric vehicles (EVs). It’s fairly clear from that discussion that LIBs, in some incarnation, are going to dominate EVs for a long while to come. There is no other commercial battery that can pack as much power into as small a space and lightweight a package. Plus, LIBs have built up a large manufacturing base, driving down prices with scale and learning. Their lock on the EV market is likely unbreakable, at least for the foreseeable future. But there’s another battery market where some competitors hope to get a foothold: grid storage. They think there’s space in that market waiting to be claimed.Currently, there’s a robust and growing short-duration grid storage market, offering storage of anywhere from seconds (to provide grid services like voltage and frequency regulation) to four hours. LIBs have about 99 percent of that market locked up; in some areas, projects with solar power coupled with four hours of storage are bidding in competitively with natural gas. Most energy wonks believe that, to fully shift the grid to zero-carbon energy, we will eventually need long-duration storage as well, to the tune of weeks, months, or even seasons. LIBs are almost certainly not going to cut it for that purpose, so it will be some combination of other technologies. (I’ll write about long-duration storage some other time.)In between short and long, there’s something that might be called mid-duration storage, covering the range between four and 24 hours. What technologies will cover that range? LIBs can do it, of course — theoretically they can cover any duration; you just stack more and more batteries — but the economics get extremely difficult. Mid-duration projects will require lots of capacity but might run comparatively rarely. As duration gets to four hours and above, the cost of LIBs, at least today’s LIBs, starts to get prohibitive.This is where other batteries come in, challengers to LIBs that hope to beat them at longer durations — though they aren’t quite there yet. “There really aren't competitive technologies in the battery electric vehicle space aside from all these different lithium ion batteries,” says Chloe Holzinger, an energy storage analyst at IHS Markit, but “there's a ton of different battery technologies for grid storage. They just tend to be significantly more expensive than lithium ion batteries.”These challengers believe they are better suited to the needs of the mid-duration grid storage market, where energy density matters less than capacity, calendar and cycle life, and safety. They think they can bring costs down to competitive levels at those durations. (Some of them think they can find other niches as well, but it’s grid storage that offers the most realistic shot.)Flow batteriesFlow batteries operate on a fundamentally different principle than the batteries we’ve looked at so far. Rather than storing energy in metals on the electrodes, energy is stored as a dissolved metal in an aqueous electrolyte. The anolyte is stored in one tank; the catholyte is stored in another; pumps circulate the fluids past electrodes (sometimes in a fuel cell), where they don’t quite mix, thanks to a thin separator, but they exchange ions and electrons, generating electricity.The key conceptual difference is that flow batteries separate energy (the amount stored) from power (the rate at which it can be released). If you want more power, you make the electrodes bigger. If you want to store more energy, you make the tanks of electrolytes bigger. And electrolytes are fairly cheap, so it’s cheap to increase capacity. This is in contrast to LIBs, which double in cost with each doubling of energy capacity. In theory, flow batteries can scale up to almost any size, relatively cheaply. So as the demands for storage get bigger — six hours, eight hours, 12 hours — the economics of flow batteries look better and better relative to LIBs. A variety of different metals can be used in the electrolyte. For a long while, vanadium was expected to be the breakout candidate, but materials costs remain stubbornly high. Companies have tried with zinc (like the late ViZn, and also see below) and iron (like ESS, which is still going strong). Recent history is littered with failed flow battery companies.“Flow batteries have been the next big thing for a really long time,” says Purdue University assistant professor and battery expert Rebecca Ciez, “but they've never quite gotten there.”The problem, as ever, is the steady march of LIBs down the cost curve. “For a three-or four-hour system, a lithium ion battery outperforms any flow battery now,” says Dan Steingart, a materials scientis

Greetings! Last week, I wrote about the ambitious slate of climate and energy policies that the state of Washington has put in place over the last two years — culminating, a few weeks ago, with the passage of the Climate Commitment Act, which would cap the state’s emissions and reduce them 95 percent by 2050. It’s a dizzying amount of progress in a short period of time. As I talked to those involved about how it happened, one name came up again and again: Rep. Joe Fitzgibbon (D) of the 34th District, which encompasses West Seattle and areas southwest of the city. Fawn Sharp, president of the National Congress of American Indians, had this to say: “Representative Joe Fitzgibbon is now a living legend for his miraculous legislative diplomacy and pure, selfless heart; he deserves to win every legislator of the year award in existence.” This is not the kind of thing one typically hears about legislators after years of difficult negotiations, but in this case, it was a fairly typical sentiment. So I knew I needed to talk to Fitzgibbon — about his entry into politics, his approach, and what enabled this burst of progress. Please enjoy our conversation. And please consider becoming a paid Volts subscriber, so that I can continue to do this work. David Roberts: Hello, welcome to Volts. I am your host, David Roberts. As longtime listeners know, Volts is headquartered in Seattle, in the great state of Washington, on the superior of America's two coasts. As it turns out, this is the place to be for climate policy. Over the last few years, the Democratic legislature in Washington has been engaged in a veritable frenzy of activity, cranking out climate and energy bills, a 100 percent clean electricity bill, bills on hydrofluorocarbons, bills to decarbonize buildings and boost electric vehicles – bills, bills, bills. Most recently, the legislature passed what are arguably the two key remaining pieces of the carbon policy puzzle. The first is a clean fuel standard, or CFS, like the one in place in California, Oregon, and BC, which will slowly ratchet down the carbon content of liquid fuels in the state. The second, the big kahuna, is the Climate Commitment Act, or CCA, which puts in place a cap and invest system that will ratchet down economy-wide greenhouse-gas emissions from 1990 levels 45 percent by 2030, 70 percent by 2040, and 95 percent by 2050. With the passage of the CCA, Washington now has, in my opinion, the most comprehensive and ambitious climate policy plan in the country – and yes, I have heard of California. I just got done writing a big story on this, and according to everyone I talked to, one legislator was particularly important in shepherding the CCA and some of the other bills in question through the House, while ensuring that they remained ambitious: Representative Joe Fitzgibbon of the 34th Legislative District containing West Seattle and Vashon Island.Fitzgibbon was elected to the legislature in 2010, when he was just 24 years old. Yes, he's a bona fide millennial. But instead of moping around his parents’ basement and eating avocados, which is what I'm told millennials do, he has been immersing himself in the wonky details of climate policy, and pushing his state into the future. So I'm happy to have him with me today to discuss climate policy and state progress. Representative Fitzgibbon, welcome to Volts.Joe Fitzgibbon: Thanks for having me, David.David Roberts: Let's start with a little bit of your history. I was thinking back on what I was doing when I was 24. I was in grad school, snowboarding a lot, smoking a bunch of pot, definitely not fit for running anything. What drew you to politics at such a young age? Is it the people aspects or the policy aspects?Joe Fitzgibbon: To your credit, you went to grad school. I'm a grad school dropout.David Roberts: Oh, I dropped out eventually. But I just stayed longer.Joe Fitzgibbon: I've always been really motivated by environmental issues, and that included a general concern for the direction things were going. I don't know how much of that can be attributed to Captain Planet and media when I was a kid. But as the climate crisis came into focus for me, probably in college, I realized, whatever I'm going to do with myself, whether that's nonprofit work or government work or something else, I want it to be about doing the most I can to make progress on the climate crisis. When I got out of college and looked around to figure out where I could do the most, state or local government seemed much more appealing to me than going to DC and being a really, really small fish in an enormous ocean. I had enough friends who had gone and done that and become disillusioned that I thought state seemed more exciting to me, so I'm happy that's where I landed. I started out as a staffer; I worked in the legislature for my predecessor in the House. She went on to serve in the Senate as Senate Majority Leader, and when she ran for the Senate, I ran for her seat in the House

In May 2019, I wrote in Vox that “one weird trick can help any state or city pass clean energy policy.” Spoiler: the one weird trick is electing Democrats. My home state of Washington elected a whole mess of Democrats over the last several cycles and it is paying off handsomely. Without much national attention, the last few years have seen Washington quietly put into place the most comprehensive and ambitious slate of climate and energy policies of any US state. Yes, I’m talking to you, California.The legislature just passed a carbon cap that will reduce economy-wide greenhouse gas emissions 95 percent by 2050 (it awaits Gov. Jay Inslee’s signature). I want to talk about that bill, but first, to understand its significance, we need to quickly review all the other stuff the Washington legislature has been up to lately. Let’s run through the last three years. It’s a lot. (And this is only the climate stuff; there’s much more: police reform, a capital gains tax, reduction in penalties for drug possession, etc.)In 2019, the legislature passed:* the Clean Energy Transformation Act (CETA), the most significant energy bill in state history, which will require state utilities to reach carbon neutrality by 2030 and 100 percent self-generated carbon-free electricity by 2045; it also contains a bunch of sexy utility business-model reforms;* the Clean Buildings bill, a first-in-the-nation program that requires large commercial building owners to address the energy efficiency of their existing buildings;* a bill on hydrofluorocarbons (HFCs), which will phase out dangerous ozone-depleting (and climate-warming) aerosols, foams, and refrigerants (making Washington the second state, after California, to do so); and* HB 2042, which puts about $170 million toward transportation electrification, through tax incentives for mid-market EVs, money for charging stations, and money to transit agencies to electrify buses. In 2020, it passed:* SB 5811, which adopts California’s Zero-Emissions Vehicle (ZEV) program and California’s Advanced Clean Truck Rule, requiring rising sales of ZEV passenger vehicles and heavy- and medium-duty trucks, respectively; and* an update of the state’s greenhouse gas emission goals: 45 percent reduction from 1990 levels by 2030, 70 percent by 2040, and 95 percent/net-zero by 2050. In 2021 so far, it has passed:* HB 1050, another HFC bill that goes beyond recently adopted federal standards;* HB 1084, the Healthy Homes and Clean Buildings Act, which would take a number of steps to gradually phase out natural gas utility service and boost building electrification [Correction: 1084 did not actually pass; it died in the Appropriations Committee, but several of its provisions passed via the state budget]; and* HB 1091, which would establish a clean fuels standard (CFS) that gradually reduces the carbon content of liquid fuels in the state, similar to laws already in place in California, Oregon, and British Columbia (making a declining carbon standard for fuels the law of the land from the Mexican border to the Yukon). This has been a long fight in Washington — the CFS is one of Big Oil’s least-favorite policies — and this is the third attempt to pass it, so victory is sweet.So, the legislature has already passed laws specific to electricity, transportation, buildings, and fuels. All of this activity sets the context for last week’s finale: SB 5126, the Climate Commitment Act (CCA — here’s the bill text). I wrote last year that carbon pricing has been dethroned in left-leaning carbon policy circles, in favor of industrial policy — sector-specific standards, investments, and justice (SIJ). But the dream of carbon pricing never died in the hearts of Jay Inslee and Washington legislators. The CCA is a “cap-and-invest” program that would impose a declining cap on emissions and distribute allowances under the cap, thereby placing an escalating price on carbon. There’s lots to say about this, but the first thing to note is that this is not carbon pricing instead of SIJ — note all the sector-specific policies passed before and alongside it. It is carbon pricing as a complement, part of a comprehensive suite of carbon policies.Note also that this bill comes at the tail end of a long record of failure on carbon pricing in Washington, including two citizen-led ballot initiatives, one based on economists’ recommendations and one based on the environmental left’s recommendations, both of which were defeated. There’s a lot of history here. Politically, there are two salient facts bounding the bill. On the downside, implementation of both the CFS and the CCA is contingent on the passage of a transportation package containing a boost in the gas tax of at least five cents per gallon. Many state climate activists are angry about this, because in its current condition, the transportation package is highway-heavy. (I’ll get into this more later.)On the upside, once it is in effect, the CCA is authorized to stay in effect until it

(Hey Volties! The following was going to be a column on Vox, but they decided they wanted something newsier, so I’ll be doing something about Biden’s pledge over there, soon. In the meantime, enjoy this writeup of a fun new paper, or listen by clicking play above. We’ll get back to Battery Week next week.)Climate change can sometimes seem like an intractable problem, so it is useful to remember periodically that progress is possible — indeed, that we are making progress, and know how to make more.This is especially true of the electricity sector.Electricity is the focus of some of our biggest ambitions. Climate policy analysts (and Joe Biden) agree that we need to decarbonize the electricity sector entirely by 2035 — that’s what Biden’s Energy Efficiency and Clean Energy Standard aims for, if he’s able to pass it. That’s an incredibly ambitious target for the next 15 years, but a look at the last 15 years shows that rapid change is possible.The US electricity sector is decarbonizing faster than expectedTo illustrate the point, Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory senior researcher Ryan Wiser undertook a simple project. He went back 15 years and looked at the US Energy Information Administration’s 2005 projections for the electricity sector, to compare them with what actually happened. Specifically, he looked at the EIA’s business-as-usual (BAU) scenario, its projection of what would happen if 2005 policy were frozen in place. (He also looked at other projections, to make sure EIA wasn’t an outlier.) Here’s the top-line conclusion:Fifteen years ago, many business-as-usual projections anticipated that annual carbon dioxide (CO2) emissions from power supply in the United States would reach 3,000 million metric tons (MMT) in 2020. In fact, direct power-sector CO2 emissions in 2020 were 1,450 MMT — roughly 50% below the earlier projections. By this metric, in only 15 years the country’s power sector has gone halfway to zero emissions. [my emphasis]Not bad!Of course, as Wiser acknowledges, this is about the rosiest possible lens through which to look at this data.2020 was an unusual year; the pandemic drove demand (and emissions) down. Using 2019 numbers instead, the decline from BAU is 46 percent.If you measure how much power sector emissions fell from 2005 to 2020 in absolute terms — rather than relative to expectations — the decline is 40 percent. Measuring absolute decline with 2019 numbers gets you 33 percent. If you look at total energy-related emissions — not just electricity but all energy — they are down 39 percent relative to BAU. It’s evident that electricity is making the fastest progress.Nonetheless, no matter how you look at it, in terms of emissions, we’re doing much better than BAU in the electricity sector. Here’s a breakdown of emission declines in the electricity sector (and its component subsectors), relative to BAU projections and absolute levels, for both 2020 and 2019.(Look how much difference 2020 made in transportation — that’s the pandemic talking.)That’s how electricity GHG emissions did. Let’s look at a few other metrics.Coal died while natural gas and renewables grewFour big trends in the sources that power the electricity sector helped push emissions below BAU. First, coal died — just absolutely plunged relative to expectations. Second, natural gas boomed, thanks to the shale revolution, and stayed much cheaper than expected. Third, renewables boomed, thanks to policy support that drove rapid cost declines. And fourth, demand stagnated, thanks to declining manufacturing and energy efficiency.Here’s a graph that shows, on top, how supply and demand sources came in relative to EIA’s 2005 BAU, and on bottom, how they performed in absolute terms.You can see the four stories plain as day: coal plunged, natural gas and renewables boomed, and demand stagnated. Here’s another way of looking at the data:Electricity bills have not increased …The dynamic in electricity prices is interesting. EIA’s 2005 BAU projection had electricity retail prices falling slightly by 2020, but average consumer electricity bills rising substantially, thanks to increased demand. What happened instead: retail prices stayed about the same, and so did average bills.With all the cheap natural gas and renewables flooding the system, why didn’t prices go down? Wiser cites research uncovering the primary culprit: “declining power production costs due to decreasing prices for natural gas, wind, and solar have been offset by increases in sector-wide transmission and distribution costs.”Curses, transmission again! (Time to spend some infrastructure money.)… but pollution has plungedCoal is the dirtiest electricity source, so the unexpected plunge in coal means a commensurate plunge in local air pollutants and greenhouse gases. Wiser calculates both the climate damages (by using the government’s social cost of carbon) and the air pollution damages avoided by sectoral changes over the last 15 years. They are stunning.Even th

(If you would rather listen than read, just click play above.)Hello, everyone, and welcome back to Battery Week! We’ve talked about why lithium-ion batteries (LIBs) are so important and we went through a basic primer on how they work. Today, we’re going to get into the competition within the broad lithium battery family, among all the different kinds of batteries that use lithium and exchange charged lithium ions. (See the previous post for a full list.)There are a few clear leaders — lithium nickel manganese cobalt oxide (NMC), lithium nickel cobalt aluminum (NCA), and lithium ferro phosphate (LFP) — that have achieved mass market scale and several others looking to get in on the action. The market prize is likely to exceed a trillion dollars within the next decade, so if any of these competitors can even carve out a substantial niche, it could be worth billions. Let’s look at the players. Better NMC and NCAThe bulk of LIB research these days is going to improve the dominant batteries on the market, mainly by reducing the amount of cobalt (the most toxic and expensive ingredient). Most EV makers use NMC batteries; Tesla uses NCA. In the past, it’s been difficult to push down the amount of cobalt in these batteries (it plays an important balancing role), but manufacturer LG recently introduced an NMC 811 battery: 80 percent nickel, 10 percent manganese, 10 percent cobalt. GM will use them in its new line, including in the Hummer, and Tesla will put them in some of its Model 3s in China.Most big battery manufacturers, including Panasonic (which supplies many of Tesla's batteries), have vowed to gradually reduce and eventually eliminate cobalt. Nickel is the key to energy density. Tesla, VW, and others are working on special high-nickel battery varieties that will be used for specialty vehicles that require extra-high energy density, like larger SUVs and trucks.But not every vehicle needs that, and nickel supply constraints are looming, so work is also being done to further boost manganese — a much more stable, abundant material — and reduce cobalt.Silicon anodesMany LIB developers are experimenting with silicon as an anode coating, partially or completely replacing graphite. Tesla has been working to increase the proportion of silicon in its anode since at least 2015.Silicon holds on to nine times more lithium ions than graphite, so energy density improves (range expands by 20 percent), and a silicon battery can charge and discharge much more quickly than graphite batteries, so power density improves as well. But silicon expands when it absorbs ions, so it breaks down quickly; cycle life is still much lower than graphite. If engineers can overcome that problem (and Tesla has vowed it can), LIBs could take a leap forward soon. SILA Nanotechnologies, in its brief on the future of LIBs, considers silicon anodes the biggest potential near-term market-shifting breakthrough in the space. It summarizes:[T]here are no high-volume commercial Li-ion batteries (yet!) in which a silicon anode entirely replaces the graphite one. When it does arrive, the reward will have been worth the wait. We expect automotive cells with NCA or NCM cathodes paired with Si-dominant anodes will increase energy density by up to 50%, thereby dropping the $/kWh cost by 30-40% in less than a decade. That is a mind-boggling prize, if any manufacturer can unlock it. (Read Canary’s Julian Spector on Sionic, a battery company that has recently debuted a silicon anode that it says can fit into existing LIB manufacturing.) Silicon anodes are technically “cathode agnostic,” though most testing so far has used NMC cathodes. If engineers can crack the code and make silicon anodes with high cycle life, it could benefit any and all cathodes (e.g., see LFP below).Fluorides as cathodesOne thing I didn’t mention about silicon-as-anode: it doesn’t operate via intercalation. Instead of nestling into the anode, ions react with the silicon and bond with it, a process called “conversion.” That makes it more difficult to peel the ions off without damage, but it can hold way more ions.With anodes (which are the limiting factor on most batteries now) improving, there’s more room for cathode improvement. SILA is big on research into fluorides — it cites metal fluoride-based cathodes (like iron fluoride or copper fluoride) and sulfur-based cathodes — which also operate via conversion rather than intercalation and can also store more ions. It writes:It’s plausible that with a conversion cathode and an engineered low-swell silicon anode, the cycle life of Li-ion can be extended all the way to 10,000 full cycles while also having the highest energy density in the market — thus breaking the [power vs. energy] compromise.SILA believes it’s only that combination — a conversion-based anode and a conversion-based cathode — that can bring LIB prices down to “~$50/kWh by 2030 and ~$30/kWh by 2040.” If it happened, that would be absolutely wild and almost certainly crush all c