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Like It Or Not, a Hydrogen Ecosystem Is Coming to New Mexico

News Feed
Tuesday, May 21, 2024

Over the past month, in public meetings stretching from the Navajo Nation to Albuquerque, public officials and company representatives unveiled a picture of a new hydrogen energy industry being built in the northwest corner of New Mexico. The presentations reveal hydrogen production, transportation, power generation and carbon sequestration projects arcing across the Navajo Nation to Farmington and down to the I-40 corridor between Gallup and Albuquerque. Most of the projects are underway, and it’s clear they’ll rely on fossil fuels.   Tallgrass Energy sits at the center of all this activity and has the backing of the state’s biggest political player, New Mexico’s governor. The Denver-based company operates more than 7,000 miles of natural gas pipelines stretching from Oregon to Ohio, and it’s going all-in on creating the necessary pieces of a new economic base in New Mexico’s second-largest fossil fuel producing region. The region’s natural gas holds the key to many of the projects “Hydrogen is huge!” Gov. Michelle Lujan Grisham proclaimed while speaking at an event in Farmington in April. What came next is what many in the region fear. “Hydrogen uses the natural gas resources here we don’t know what to do with,” she said.  Actually, plenty of people know what to do with natural gas. The issue is that fewer and fewer people want to use it, even as more and more of it is being produced. Historically, natural gas has been used most significantly for electrical grid power generation in the U.S., but its use in that arena is declining as renewable energy prices drop in the face of government climate policies and ever-cheaper solar technology.  It takes more energy to make hydrogen than it provides when converted to useful energy.  Meanwhile, natural gas prices have tanked due to a production glut caused by ever-increasing oil production using hydraulic fracturing, or “fracking,” in places like the Permian Basin, shared between New Mexico and Texas. Producers want the oil, which brings a market price well above the cost of its production. But, pulled from the well, that fracked oil comes commingled with the less desired natural gas. Over the past month, natural gas prices dipped below zero at a main pipeline transit hub in Texas due to the glut. Some companies are storing gas underground, awaiting better days and prices. Enter hydrogen. The most plentiful element in the universe is a perfectly clean fuel when used to make electricity in a fuel cell. It’s generally cleaner than natural gas when burned to make heat, though the process produces nitrogen oxides that the EPA says damage the human respiratory system and contribute to acid rain.  The crux lies in how you make your hydrogen, which rarely exists on its own on earth. The cleanest, most energy-intensive way breaks water molecules into hydrogen and oxygen using renewable energy. The common way breaks off hydrogen atoms from the methane in natural gas. Either way, it takes more energy to make hydrogen than it provides when converted to useful energy. When made with natural gas, the process also produces a lot of climate-damaging carbon dioxide. That defeats hydrogen’s clean bonafides unless the carbon dioxide is captured and buried underground, a process that uses even more energy. Furthermore, the natural gas production and transportation process often leaks, sometimes a lot. That gas is mostly methane, which is 80 times more capable of warming the atmosphere than carbon dioxide in the first 20 years after it’s released.  The federal government incentivized so-called low-carbon hydrogen production from natural gas with carbon sequestration in the Inflation Reduction Act of 2022. Many worry that this will lead to increased greenhouse gas emissions in light of New Mexico’s rocky track record of policing its oil and gas producers. All of this means a fuel promoted to fight climate change could actually exacerbate it, and cost a lot, too. “How companies choose to produce that hydrogen will fundamentally be a business decision they must make,” said Michael Coleman, director of communications to Gov. Lujan Grisham. “Our greatest opportunity as a state is producing hydrogen from a range of feedstocks.” Gov. Lujan Grisham has stumped for hydrogen for years, with little support from the state’s Legislature or environmental groups. She also sought a multibillion-dollar grant from the federal government to create a multi-state hydrogen ecosystem centered in New Mexico’s San Juan Basin, but the feds snubbed it last October. Hydrogen investments face a bumpy road in other states as well.  Nonetheless, Lujan Grisham forges on — she went to the Netherlands last week to drum up more hydrogen investments. Meanwhile, testing and planning chug along, with Tallgrass linking many of the far-flung pieces together. “The governor is looking to attract all kinds of hydrogen businesses to New Mexico,” Coleman said. “Tallgrass’ proposal draws all of the attention because of its scale but is hardly the only initiative under way.”  The Navajo Nation has a 100-year history of outside companies coming in, making fortunes from Native resources and leaving environmental messes behind.   “One of the more notable misconceptions that we’ve struggled to overcome is the view that we are focused on a singular point-to-point hydrogen project,” said Steven Davidson, vice president of government and public affairs for Tallgrass Energy. He’s referring to a hydrogen pipeline being developed by GreenView, a Tallgrass subsidiary. “We are working to create a clean energy ecosystem in coordination with many other parties,” he said. One of those parties is the Four Corners Clean Energy Alliance, an advocacy group promoting hydrogen development and associated technologies in the region on behalf of GreenView and Tallgrass. One of the group’s board members is an executive at Tallgrass. Both the group’s interim director and director of communications also work for the Consumer Energy Alliance, an industry trade group sponsored in part by a who’s-who of fossil fuel energy producers. The Tallgrass ecosystem includes a carbon capture and sequestration project with New Mexico Tech. The university has been studying the geology of the San Juan Basin since 2020 with the goal of getting three sequestration wells operational in a few years. The project is in the middle of its federal permitting process and could be approved sometime next year. It also includes the Escalante coal-fired power plant retrofitted to burn hydrogen, along I-40 between Albuquerque and Gallup and the hydrogen pipeline linking Farmington to central Arizona and crossing the Navajo Nation, a controversial project still in the planning stages. It’s expected to include a hydrogen production facility or two in or near Farmington, with exact locations to be determined. And there’s more. At a San Juan County Commission meeting in April, the lead researcher on the carbon sequestration project pointed out that if the Escalante power plant is to reach its carbon-free objective, Tallgrass has to build another pipeline, this one for carbon dioxide, running from the Escalante power plant to the future carbon sequestration wells, roughly 100 miles to the north and crossing the eastern reaches of the Navajo Nation. Meanwhile, the hydrogen pipeline project has already drawn fire from Navajo opposed to further energy projects on the Nation. The tribe has a 100-year history of outside companies coming in, making fortunes from Native resources and leaving environmental messes behind.  “All the projects that have ever been on Navajo [Nation] made those companies a lot of money,” said Jessica Keetso, who is Diné and an organizer with Tó Nizhóní Ání or Sacred Water Speaks, a Navajo water rights and environmental protection group. Historically, she said, they don’t clean up after themselves. “They get away with not doing reclamation, for everything from oil and gas, uranium to coal,” she said.  “Will this really kickstart our economy, our Navajo Nation economy? I think that’s questionable. If 50 years of coal mining couldn’t do that, hydrogen is not going to do that.” ~ Jessica Keetso, organizer, Tó Nizhóní Ání  Many are also unhappy with how Tallgrass has gone about drumming up support from the tribe’s widely spaced, often-impoverished population.  At a meeting of the Navajo Nation Resources and Development Committee in Albuquerque in late April to discuss the hydrogen pipeline project, committee member Rickie Nez told Tallgrass representatives, “No more gift cards! No more gift cards! It makes you look like you’re bribing someone.”  GreenView representatives had been giving out gift cards to tribal members who attended chapter house meetings where the pipeline was discussed. (Chapter houses are the most local form of government on the Navajo Nation.) At some meetings, tribal members also voted on resolutions to allow the pipeline to cross their chapters. Davidson said the company came up with the idea “in consultation with respected cultural advisors from the Navajo Nation … to lessen the burden to the individual to encourage them to participate.” He said that the cards were for $25 to $50. He also heard that the cards “met with some concern about optics. We completely understand that point.” In addition, at the Resources and Development Committee meeting, Adam Schiche, whose online profile says he is the vice president for international business development at Tallgrass, said that GreenView representatives met with and paid individual grazing permit holders $500 for the possibility of working on land where livestock grazes. Davidson later said, “We have no qualms” in offering upfront payments, treating Navajo permit holders “exactly like landowners off the Nation.” He said further money would be given if the project goes forward. “Money talks. Money is persuading people, which is a very sad thing to see,” said Keetso. “The tactics are actually paying off for them because two months ago they didn’t have any resolutions.” For roughly two years, representatives from both Tó Nizhóní Ání and GreenView have made their cases for or against the pipeline and asked chapters to consider resolutions supporting or opposing it all along the proposed pipeline route. At the April Resources and Development Committee hearing, Schiche said that Tallgrass representatives had gathered resolutions in favor of the pipeline from five chapters. Tó Nizhóní Ání has gathered 15 against. Tallgrass’ main business is natural gas, and while the focus on hydrogen is touted as part of a climate change solution, it’s clearly connected to those fossil fuel operations. “We believe every practical option to decarbonize should be advanced — including the decarbonization of natural gas to make … hydrogen,” Davidson said. He sees hydrogen keeping the lights on, firing power plants when the sun goes down and the winds calm. “Hydrogen is a proven way to convert and store that clean electricity for when it’s needed,” he said. That’s the idea that ties natural gas to carbon sequestration, to the Escalante hydrogen-fired power plant 100 miles west of Albuquerque and to a 200-mile pipeline across the Navajo Nation to central Arizona. Powering the electric grid with expensive hydrogen isn’t universally popular. The Rocky Mountain Institute, a Colorado-based nonprofit that helps businesses and governments transition away from fossil fuels, promotes a common view for hydrogen’s best uses. “Fertilizer, oil refining and petrochemicals, steel manufacturing, and long-distance heavy-duty transport are no-regrets applications of hydrogen today,” they write. Hydrogen power plants aren’t what’s needed now. In the end, New Mexico’s discussion about hydrogen is about money. At the Resource and Development Committee meeting, Schiche told the group that $400,000 a year would be split among chapter houses along the pipeline route. In addition, the Nation could choose either a percentage stake in the pipeline company or annual payment for gas moving through the line.  “Will this really kickstart our economy, our Navajo Nation economy?” Keetso said later. “I think that’s questionable. If 50 years of coal mining couldn’t do that, hydrogen is not going to do that.” Long-term jobs are a perennial hope for any projects on the Nation, where unemployment runs high. Schiche said that there would be a lot of construction work while building the project, but “the pipeline itself doesn’t generate a lot of jobs.” He said those would be at two hydrogen production sites somewhere around Farmington — which is not on the reservation. Keetso calls on bigger groups to fight alongside Tó Nizhóní Ání against the hydrogen projects. She said, “I just wish big greens would get off the fence and say, ‘Hey, this hydrogen may be the solution for some things. But the way that this company is doing it is wrong.’” Copyright 2024 Capital & Main

Production, distribution, power generation, carbon capture all in the works: Questions, concerns, confusion abound. The post Like It Or Not, a Hydrogen Ecosystem Is Coming to New Mexico appeared first on .

Over the past month, in public meetings stretching from the Navajo Nation to Albuquerque, public officials and company representatives unveiled a picture of a new hydrogen energy industry being built in the northwest corner of New Mexico. The presentations reveal hydrogen production, transportation, power generation and carbon sequestration projects arcing across the Navajo Nation to Farmington and down to the I-40 corridor between Gallup and Albuquerque. Most of the projects are underway, and it’s clear they’ll rely on fossil fuels.
 



 
Tallgrass Energy sits at the center of all this activity and has the backing of the state’s biggest political player, New Mexico’s governor. The Denver-based company operates more than 7,000 miles of natural gas pipelines stretching from Oregon to Ohio, and it’s going all-in on creating the necessary pieces of a new economic base in New Mexico’s second-largest fossil fuel producing region. The region’s natural gas holds the key to many of the projects

“Hydrogen is huge!” Gov. Michelle Lujan Grisham proclaimed while speaking at an event in Farmington in April. What came next is what many in the region fear.

“Hydrogen uses the natural gas resources here we don’t know what to do with,” she said. 

Actually, plenty of people know what to do with natural gas. The issue is that fewer and fewer people want to use it, even as more and more of it is being produced. Historically, natural gas has been used most significantly for electrical grid power generation in the U.S., but its use in that arena is declining as renewable energy prices drop in the face of government climate policies and ever-cheaper solar technology.
 


It takes more energy to make hydrogen than it provides when converted to useful energy.


 
Meanwhile, natural gas prices have tanked due to a production glut caused by ever-increasing oil production using hydraulic fracturing, or “fracking,” in places like the Permian Basin, shared between New Mexico and Texas. Producers want the oil, which brings a market price well above the cost of its production. But, pulled from the well, that fracked oil comes commingled with the less desired natural gas. Over the past month, natural gas prices dipped below zero at a main pipeline transit hub in Texas due to the glut. Some companies are storing gas underground, awaiting better days and prices.

Enter hydrogen. The most plentiful element in the universe is a perfectly clean fuel when used to make electricity in a fuel cell. It’s generally cleaner than natural gas when burned to make heat, though the process produces nitrogen oxides that the EPA says damage the human respiratory system and contribute to acid rain. 

The crux lies in how you make your hydrogen, which rarely exists on its own on earth. The cleanest, most energy-intensive way breaks water molecules into hydrogen and oxygen using renewable energy. The common way breaks off hydrogen atoms from the methane in natural gas. Either way, it takes more energy to make hydrogen than it provides when converted to useful energy. When made with natural gas, the process also produces a lot of climate-damaging carbon dioxide. That defeats hydrogen’s clean bonafides unless the carbon dioxide is captured and buried underground, a process that uses even more energy.

Furthermore, the natural gas production and transportation process often leaks, sometimes a lot. That gas is mostly methane, which is 80 times more capable of warming the atmosphere than carbon dioxide in the first 20 years after it’s released. 

The federal government incentivized so-called low-carbon hydrogen production from natural gas with carbon sequestration in the Inflation Reduction Act of 2022. Many worry that this will lead to increased greenhouse gas emissions in light of New Mexico’s rocky track record of policing its oil and gas producers. All of this means a fuel promoted to fight climate change could actually exacerbate it, and cost a lot, too.

“How companies choose to produce that hydrogen will fundamentally be a business decision they must make,” said Michael Coleman, director of communications to Gov. Lujan Grisham. “Our greatest opportunity as a state is producing hydrogen from a range of feedstocks.”

Gov. Lujan Grisham has stumped for hydrogen for years, with little support from the state’s Legislature or environmental groups. She also sought a multibillion-dollar grant from the federal government to create a multi-state hydrogen ecosystem centered in New Mexico’s San Juan Basin, but the feds snubbed it last October. Hydrogen investments face a bumpy road in other states as well. 

Nonetheless, Lujan Grisham forges on — she went to the Netherlands last week to drum up more hydrogen investments. Meanwhile, testing and planning chug along, with Tallgrass linking many of the far-flung pieces together. “The governor is looking to attract all kinds of hydrogen businesses to New Mexico,” Coleman said. “Tallgrass’ proposal draws all of the attention because of its scale but is hardly the only initiative under way.”
 


The Navajo Nation has a 100-year history of outside companies coming in, making fortunes from Native resources and leaving environmental messes behind. 


 
“One of the more notable misconceptions that we’ve struggled to overcome is the view that we are focused on a singular point-to-point hydrogen project,” said Steven Davidson, vice president of government and public affairs for Tallgrass Energy. He’s referring to a hydrogen pipeline being developed by GreenView, a Tallgrass subsidiary. “We are working to create a clean energy ecosystem in coordination with many other parties,” he said.

One of those parties is the Four Corners Clean Energy Alliance, an advocacy group promoting hydrogen development and associated technologies in the region on behalf of GreenView and Tallgrass. One of the group’s board members is an executive at Tallgrass. Both the group’s interim director and director of communications also work for the Consumer Energy Alliance, an industry trade group sponsored in part by a who’s-who of fossil fuel energy producers.

The Tallgrass ecosystem includes a carbon capture and sequestration project with New Mexico Tech. The university has been studying the geology of the San Juan Basin since 2020 with the goal of getting three sequestration wells operational in a few years. The project is in the middle of its federal permitting process and could be approved sometime next year.

It also includes the Escalante coal-fired power plant retrofitted to burn hydrogen, along I-40 between Albuquerque and Gallup and the hydrogen pipeline linking Farmington to central Arizona and crossing the Navajo Nation, a controversial project still in the planning stages.

It’s expected to include a hydrogen production facility or two in or near Farmington, with exact locations to be determined.

And there’s more. At a San Juan County Commission meeting in April, the lead researcher on the carbon sequestration project pointed out that if the Escalante power plant is to reach its carbon-free objective, Tallgrass has to build another pipeline, this one for carbon dioxide, running from the Escalante power plant to the future carbon sequestration wells, roughly 100 miles to the north and crossing the eastern reaches of the Navajo Nation.

Meanwhile, the hydrogen pipeline project has already drawn fire from Navajo opposed to further energy projects on the Nation. The tribe has a 100-year history of outside companies coming in, making fortunes from Native resources and leaving environmental messes behind. 

“All the projects that have ever been on Navajo [Nation] made those companies a lot of money,” said Jessica Keetso, who is Diné and an organizer with Tó Nizhóní Ání or Sacred Water Speaks, a Navajo water rights and environmental protection group. Historically, she said, they don’t clean up after themselves. “They get away with not doing reclamation, for everything from oil and gas, uranium to coal,” she said.
 


“Will this really kickstart our economy, our Navajo Nation economy? I think that’s questionable. If 50 years of coal mining couldn’t do that, hydrogen is not going to do that.”

~ Jessica Keetso, organizer, Tó Nizhóní Ání

 
Many are also unhappy with how Tallgrass has gone about drumming up support from the tribe’s widely spaced, often-impoverished population. 

At a meeting of the Navajo Nation Resources and Development Committee in Albuquerque in late April to discuss the hydrogen pipeline project, committee member Rickie Nez told Tallgrass representatives, “No more gift cards! No more gift cards! It makes you look like you’re bribing someone.” 

GreenView representatives had been giving out gift cards to tribal members who attended chapter house meetings where the pipeline was discussed. (Chapter houses are the most local form of government on the Navajo Nation.) At some meetings, tribal members also voted on resolutions to allow the pipeline to cross their chapters. Davidson said the company came up with the idea “in consultation with respected cultural advisors from the Navajo Nation … to lessen the burden to the individual to encourage them to participate.” He said that the cards were for $25 to $50. He also heard that the cards “met with some concern about optics. We completely understand that point.”

In addition, at the Resources and Development Committee meeting, Adam Schiche, whose online profile says he is the vice president for international business development at Tallgrass, said that GreenView representatives met with and paid individual grazing permit holders $500 for the possibility of working on land where livestock grazes. Davidson later said, “We have no qualms” in offering upfront payments, treating Navajo permit holders “exactly like landowners off the Nation.” He said further money would be given if the project goes forward.

“Money talks. Money is persuading people, which is a very sad thing to see,” said Keetso. “The tactics are actually paying off for them because two months ago they didn’t have any resolutions.”

For roughly two years, representatives from both Tó Nizhóní Ání and GreenView have made their cases for or against the pipeline and asked chapters to consider resolutions supporting or opposing it all along the proposed pipeline route. At the April Resources and Development Committee hearing, Schiche said that Tallgrass representatives had gathered resolutions in favor of the pipeline from five chapters. Tó Nizhóní Ání has gathered 15 against.

Tallgrass’ main business is natural gas, and while the focus on hydrogen is touted as part of a climate change solution, it’s clearly connected to those fossil fuel operations. “We believe every practical option to decarbonize should be advanced — including the decarbonization of natural gas to make … hydrogen,” Davidson said. He sees hydrogen keeping the lights on, firing power plants when the sun goes down and the winds calm. “Hydrogen is a proven way to convert and store that clean electricity for when it’s needed,” he said. That’s the idea that ties natural gas to carbon sequestration, to the Escalante hydrogen-fired power plant 100 miles west of Albuquerque and to a 200-mile pipeline across the Navajo Nation to central Arizona.

Powering the electric grid with expensive hydrogen isn’t universally popular. The Rocky Mountain Institute, a Colorado-based nonprofit that helps businesses and governments transition away from fossil fuels, promotes a common view for hydrogen’s best uses. “Fertilizer, oil refining and petrochemicals, steel manufacturing, and long-distance heavy-duty transport are no-regrets applications of hydrogen today,” they write. Hydrogen power plants aren’t what’s needed now.

In the end, New Mexico’s discussion about hydrogen is about money. At the Resource and Development Committee meeting, Schiche told the group that $400,000 a year would be split among chapter houses along the pipeline route. In addition, the Nation could choose either a percentage stake in the pipeline company or annual payment for gas moving through the line. 

“Will this really kickstart our economy, our Navajo Nation economy?” Keetso said later. “I think that’s questionable. If 50 years of coal mining couldn’t do that, hydrogen is not going to do that.”

Long-term jobs are a perennial hope for any projects on the Nation, where unemployment runs high. Schiche said that there would be a lot of construction work while building the project, but “the pipeline itself doesn’t generate a lot of jobs.” He said those would be at two hydrogen production sites somewhere around Farmington — which is not on the reservation.

Keetso calls on bigger groups to fight alongside Tó Nizhóní Ání against the hydrogen projects. She said, “I just wish big greens would get off the fence and say, ‘Hey, this hydrogen may be the solution for some things. But the way that this company is doing it is wrong.’”


Copyright 2024 Capital & Main

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Photos courtesy of

In Colorado Town Built on Coal, Some Families Are Moving On, Even as Trump Tries to Boost Industry

The Cooper family has worked in the coal industry in Colorado for generations

CRAIG, Colo. (AP) — The Cooper family knows how to work heavy machinery. The kids could run a hay baler by their early teens, and two of the three ran monster-sized drills at the coal mines along with their dad.But learning to maneuver the shiny red drill they use to tap into underground heat feels different. It's a critical part of the new family business, High Altitude Geothermal, which installs geothermal heat pumps that use the Earth’s constant temperature to heat and cool buildings. At stake is not just their livelihood but a century-long family legacy of producing energy in Moffat County.Like many families here, the Coopers have worked in coal for generations — and in oil before that. That's ending for Matt Cooper and his son Matthew as one of three coal mines in the area closes in a statewide shift to cleaner energy. “People have to start looking beyond coal," said Matt Cooper. "And that can be a multitude of things. Our economy has been so focused on coal and coal-fired power plants. And we need the diversity.” Many countries and about half of U.S. states are moving away from coal, citing environmental impacts and high costs. Burning coal emits carbon dioxide that traps heat in the atmosphere, warming the planet.That's created uncertainty in places like Craig. As some families like the Coopers plan for the next stage of their careers, others hold out hope Trump will save their plants, mines and high-paying jobs. Matt and Matthew Cooper work at the Colowyo Mine near Meeker, though active mining has ended and site cleanup begins in January.The mine employs about 130 workers and supplies Craig Generating Station, a 1,400-megawatt coal-fired plant. Tri-State Generation and Transmission Association is planning to close Craig's Unit 1 by year's end for economic reasons and to meet legal requirements for reducing emissions. The other two units will close in 2028.Xcel Energy owns coal-fired Hayden Station, about 30 minutes away. It said it doesn't plan to change retirement dates for Hayden, though it's extending another coal unit in Pueblo in part due to increased demand for electricity.The Craig and Hayden plants together employ about 200 people.Craig residents have always been entrepreneurial and that spirit will get them through this transition, said Kirstie McPherson, board president for the Craig Chamber of Commerce. Still, she said, just about everybody here is connected to coal.“You have a whole community who has always been told you are an energy town, you’re a coal town," she said. “When that starts going away, beyond just the individuals that are having the identity crisis, you have an entire culture, an entire community that is also having that same crisis.”Coal has been central to Colorado’s economy since before statehood, but it's generally the most expensive energy on today's grid, said Democratic Gov. Jared Polis.“We are not going to let this administration drag us backwards into an overreliance on expensive fossil fuels,” Polis said in a statement. Nationwide, coal power was 28% more expensive in 2024 than it was in 2021, costing consumers $6.2 billion more, according to a June analysis from Energy Innovation. The nonpartisan think tank cited significant increases to run aging plants as well as inflation.Colorado’s six remaining coal-fired power plants are scheduled to close or convert to natural gas, which emits about half the carbon dioxide as coal, by 2031. The state is rapidly adding solar and wind that's cheaper and cleaner than legacy coal plants. Renewable energy provides more than 40% of Colorado’s power now and will pass 70% by the end of the decade, according to statewide utility plans.Nationwide, wind and solar growth has remained strong, producing more electricity than coal in 2025, as of the latest data in October, according to energy think tank Ember.But some states want to increase or at least maintain coal production. That includes top coal state Wyoming, where the Wyoming Energy Authority said Trump is breathing welcome new life into its coal and mining industry.The Coopers have gone all-in on geothermal. “Maybe we’ll never go back to coal," Matt Cooper said. "We haven’t (gone) back to oil and gas, so we might just be geothermal people for quite some time, maybe generations, and then eventually something else will come along.”While the Coopers were learning to use their drill in October, Wade Gerber was in downtown Craig distilling grain neutral spirits — used to make gin and vodka — on a day off from the Craig Station power plant. Gerber stepped over his corgis, Ali and Boss, and onto a stepladder to peer into a massive stainless steel pot where he was heating wheat and barley.Gerber's spent three decades in coal. When closure plans were announced four years ago, he, his wife Tenniel and their friend McPherson brainstormed business ideas.“With my background in plumbing and electrical from the plant it’s like, oh yeah, I can handle that part of it,” Gerber said about distilling. “This is the easy part.”He used Tri-State's education subsidies for classes in distilling, while other co-workers learned to fix vehicles or repair guns to find new careers. While some plan to leave town, Gerber is opening Bad Alibi Distillery. McPherson and Tenniel Gerber are opening a cocktail bar next door.Everyone in town hopes Trump will step in to extend the plant's life, Gerber said. Meanwhile, they're trying to define a new future for Craig in a nerve-wracking time.“For me, my products can go elsewhere. I don’t necessarily have to sell it in Craig, there’s that avenue. For someone relying on Craig, it's even scarier,” he said. Questioning the coal rollback Tammy Villard owns a gift shop, Moffat Mercantile, with her husband. After the coal closures were announced, they opened a commercial print shop too, seeing it as a practical choice for when so many high-paying jobs go away. Villard, who spent a decade at Colowyo as administrative staff, said she doesn't understand how the state can throw the switch to turn off coal and still have reliable electricity. She wants the state to slow down. Villard describes herself as a moderate Republican. She said political swings at the federal level — from the green energy push in the last administration to doubling down on fossil fuels in this one — aren't helpful.“The pendulum has to come back to the middle," she said, “and we are so far out to either side that I don’t know how we get back to that middle.”The Associated Press’ climate and environmental coverage receives financial support from multiple private foundations. AP is solely responsible for all content. Find AP’s standards for working with philanthropies, a list of supporters and funded coverage areas at AP.org.Copyright 2025 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Photos You Should See – Nov. 2025

1803 Fund unveils renderings of $70 million investment for Portland’s Black community

Initial site work, including permitting, is expected to take roughly two years, with construction scheduled to take another two years after that.

The 1803 Fund, an organization working to advance Portland’s Black community, unveiled new renderings Tuesday for a combined ten acres it purchased on the banks of the Willamette River near the Moda Center and in the lower Albina neighborhood.The organization, formed in 2023 with a $400 million pledge from Nike co-founder Phil Knight and wife Penny Knight, said last month it was spending $70 million on several Eastside properties. It said the redevelopment of those sites would have a tenfold economic impact via the hundreds of local jobs it expects to generate. The total projected outlay for the redevelopment remains unclear.Project leaders say they expect initial site work for what they’re calling Rebuild Albina, including permitting, to take roughly two years, with construction scheduled to take another two years after that.At a Tuesday press conference, organization leaders detailed plans for two sites: a set of grain silos on three acres formerly owned by the Louis Dreyfus Co. and now called Albina Riverside; and a seven-acre property in the lower Albina neighborhood south of the Fremont Bridge and west of Interstate 5, in a district once known as The Low End.“We intend to give that name back to the community,” Rukaiyah Adams, chief executive of the 1803 Fund, said Tuesday of The Low End district, as a carousel of renderings flashed on a wide screen behind her.The group has said it wants to see those seven acres become a neighborhood gateway that connects the Black community to downtown. The Low End is slated to become a mixed-use neighborhood with housing and public spaces with art, businesses, culture and community initiatives, according to a factsheet provided by the 1803 Fund, while plans for Albina Riverside are still in the works. Still, the Albina Riverside renderings show a reuse of the grain silos, a basketball court and what appear to be community-access steps down to the waterfront.Properties in The Low End require environmental cleanup, which project officials say they are coordinating with the Oregon Department of Environmental Quality. It’s not clear at this point what environmental remediation the Albina Riverside site may need, officials said.On Tuesday, project leaders said $30 million went toward properties in The Low End, while they spent $5 million on Albina Riverside. Another $35 million in Albina-area property investments are forthcoming, according to the factsheet.Mayor Keith Wilson and City Council member Loretta Smith took turns at the lectern heaping praise on Adams for her leadership of the fund.Wilson said he was committed to supporting the 1803 Fund’s “transformational projects” as the redevelopment of Albina bolsters Portland’s broader renaissance. “I keep wanting to cry every time I look at you, Rukaiyah,” the mayor said. “It’s personal for me, and I know it is for you, as well.”Smith told attendees that whenever she travels to another city, there’s a district called The Low End where members of the Black community live and gather.“It had a stigma to it, and it does have a stigma to it,” Smith said. “Now you’re taking that stigma away and saying, come on down to Albina to The Low End. It’s a cool thing to do. So thank you very much for giving us back that history and that culture.”Retaking the stage, Adams said part of what prompted the purchase of the grain silo was stories she heard years ago from former state Sen. Avel Gordly – the first Black woman sworn into the Oregon Senate – of Black men who used to work and died in the silos.Gordly implored Adams to take more of a leadership role in helping to clean up the Willamette, Adams said. “The connection of Black folks who migrated here from watersheds in the Jim Crow South to that Willamette River watershed is deep and spiritual,” Adams said. “My family left the Red River watershed in Louisiana to come to the Willamette River watershed here. “Our stories are often told as the movement between cities, but we are a people deeply connected to the water,” she said. “We wade in the water.”--Matthew Kish contributed to this article.

Colorado mandates ambitious emissions cuts for its gas utilities

Colorado just set a major new climate goal for the companies that supply homes and businesses with fossil gas. By 2035, investor-owned gas utilities must cut carbon pollution by 41% from 2015 levels, the Colorado Public Utilities Commission decided in a 2–1 vote in mid-November. The target — which builds on goals…

Colorado just set a major new climate goal for the companies that supply homes and businesses with fossil gas. By 2035, investor-owned gas utilities must cut carbon pollution by 41% from 2015 levels, the Colorado Public Utilities Commission decided in a 2–1 vote in mid-November. The target — which builds on goals already set for 2025 and 2030 — is far more consistent with the state’s aim to decarbonize by 2050 than the other proposals considered. Commissioners rejected the tepid 22% to 30% cut that utilities asked for and the 31% target that state agencies recommended. Climate advocates hailed the decision as a victory for managing a transition away from burning fossil gas in Colorado buildings. “It’s a really huge deal,” said Jim Dennison, staff attorney at the Sierra Club, one of more than 20 environmental groups that advocated for an ambitious target. ​“It’s one of the strongest commitments to tangible progress that’s been made anywhere in the country.” In 2021, Colorado passed a first-in-the-nation law requiring gas utilities to find ways to deliver heat sans the emissions. That could entail swapping gas for alternative fuels, like methane from manure or hydrogen made with renewable power. But last year the utilities commission found that the most cost-effective approaches are weatherizing buildings and outfitting them with all-electric, ultraefficient appliances such as heat pumps. These double-duty devices keep homes toasty in winter and cool in summer. The clean-heat law pushes utilities to cut emissions by 4% from 2015 levels by 2025 and then 22% by 2030. But Colorado leaves exact targets for future years up to the Public Utilities Commission. Last month’s decision on the 2035 standard marks the first time that regulators have taken up that task. Gas is still a fixture in the Centennial State. About seven out of 10 Colorado households burn the fossil fuel as their primary source for heating, which accounts for about 31% of the state’s gas use. If gas utilities hit the new 2035 mandate, they’ll avoid an estimated 45.5 million metric tons of greenhouse gases over the next decade, according to an analysis by the Colorado Energy Office and the Colorado Department of Public Health and Environment. They’d also prevent the release of hundreds more tons of nitrogen oxides and ultrafine particulates that cause respiratory and cardiovascular problems, from asthma to heart attacks. State officials predicted this would mean 58 averted premature deaths between now and 2035, nearly $1 billion in economic benefits, and $5.1 billion in avoided costs of climate change. “I think in the next five to 10 years, people will be thinking about burning fossil fuels in their home the way they now think about lead paint,” said former state Rep. Tracey Bernett, a Democrat who was the prime sponsor of the clean-heat law. Competing clean-heat targets Back in August, during proceedings to decide the 2035 target, gas utilities encouraged regulators to aim low. Citing concerns about market uptake of heat pumps and potential costs to customers, they asked for a goal as modest as 22% by 2035 — a target that wouldn’t require any progress at all in the five years after 2030. Climate advocates argued that such a weak goal would cause the state to fall short on its climate commitments. Nonprofits the Sierra Club, the Southwest Energy Efficiency Project, and the Western Resource Advocates submitted a technical analysis that determined the emissions reductions the gas utilities would need to hit to align with the state’s 2050 net-zero goal: 55% by 2035, 74% by 2040, 93% by 2045, and, finally, 100% by 2050. History suggests these reductions are feasible, advocates asserted.

The rewriting of Australia’s nature laws come as a relief, yet I can’t help feel a sense of foreboding | Georgina Woods

The minister says quick approvals can happen while protecting the environment, but my experience tells me that haste brings unintended consequencesGet our breaking news email, free app or daily news podcastI got a text from a biodiversity advocate around midday on Thursday asking me: are you glad, or sad?I wasn’t sure how to reply. Continue reading...

I got a text from a biodiversity advocate around midday on Thursday asking me: are you glad, or sad?I wasn’t sure how to reply.The Australian parliament is amending the country’s environment laws. Thanks to negotiating by the Greens, the amended laws will not enable the fast-tracking of coal and gas mining, which the government had proposed. Decisions about coal and gas mines that harm water resources will be retained by the commonwealth and not given over wholly to state governments as the government had proposed. That is an enormous relief.And yet, I am filled with foreboding.The bill introduced into parliament only a few weeks ago proposed to take the country backwards in environmental protection. It sought to strip communities of participation in environmental decisions, hand decision-making about environmental harm to the states and territories and give the environment minister sweeping power to tailor environmental regulations for certain developments, companies or industries.The government made it clear from the outset that the convenience of business, the desire for “quick yesses” that could harm the natural environment, was its chief priority. It has been made clear that the government intends to grant fast-tracked approval to renewable energy developments and minerals mines. There is excited talk about “abundance” – which is code for sweeping forests, wetlands, woodlands and local communities out of the path of business, mining and development.The minister is adamant this can be done while protecting the environment, but my 25 years of experience with environmental regulation tell me that haste brings unintended consequences. It makes communities angry. It leads to losses of our beautiful natural heritage that are mourned for generations. It impoverishes us by eroding the natural ecosystems that actually create the “abundance” that makes our society.Sign up: AU Breaking News emailThere is no abundance without reciprocity and we will learn this, to our sorrow, in the years to come if we continue treating the natural world as a magic pudding that can be cut and cut and cut and will come again.Coal and gas mining will not be fast-tracked and for that I am very glad. But the government ruled out embedding any formal consideration of the impacts of greenhouse gas pollution, the effect of climate change on Australia’s natural heritage, into decision-making. Only a few months ago, Australia’s first national climate risk assessment itemised a devastating prognosis for Australia’s marine, freshwater and terrestrial ecosystems across the continent if global warming exceeds the limits set down in the Paris climate agreement. It spoke of ecosystems collapsing and whole species dying out. The only way to prevent that warming is to stop the pollution that comes from burning coal, gas and oil for energy, and quickly. Indeed, an International Court of Justice advisory opinion has affirmed that all countries have a legal obligation to prevent climate harm and protect the climate system. For Australia, that means preventing the pollution from our energy exports.The greenhouse gas emissions from Australia’s energy exports, and the impact that this pollution is having on Australians, is not going to go away because the minister refuses to think about it, or because the prime minister is too squeamish to talk about it. The consequences will plague our descendents for generations to come, long after this generation of politicians are gone, but there will be more immediate demands from communities suffering the effects of climate change that will become increasingly impossible to ignore.

Mind, hand, and harvest

A volunteer-driven pilot program brings low-cost organic produce to the MIT community.

On a sunny, warm Sunday MIT students, staff, and faculty spread out across the fields of Hannan Healthy Foods in Lincoln, Massachusetts. Some of these volunteers pluck tomatoes from their vines in a patch a few hundred feet from the cars whizzing by on Route 117. Others squat in the shade cast by the greenhouse to snip chives. Still others slice heads of Napa cabbage from their roots in a bed nearer the woods. Everything being harvested today will wind up in Harvest Boxes, which will be sold at a pop-up farm stand the next day in the lobby of the Stata Center back on the MIT campus.This initiative — a pilot collaboration between MIT’s Office of Sustainability (MITOS), the MIT Anthropology Section, Hannan Healthy Foods, and the nascent MIT Farm student organization — sold six-pound boxes of fresh, organic produce to the MIT community for $10 per box — half off the typical wholesale price. The weekly farm stands ran from Sept. 15 through Oct. 27.“There is a documented need for accessible, affordable, fresh food on college campuses,” says Heather Paxson, William R. Kenan, Jr. Professor of Anthropology and one of the organizers of the program. “The problems for a small farmer in finding a sufficient market … are connected to the challenges of food insecurity in even wealthy areas. And so, it really is about connecting those dots.”Through the six weeks of the project, farm stand shoppers purchased more than 2,000 pounds of fresh produce that they wouldn’t otherwise have had access to. Hannan, Paxson, and the team hope that this year’s pilot was successful enough to continue into future growing seasons, either in this farm stand form or as something else that can equally serve the campus community.“This year we decided to pour our heart, soul, and resources into this vision and prove what’s possible,” says Susy Jones, senior sustainability project manager at MITOS. “How can we do it in a way that is robust and goes through the official MIT channels, and yet pushes the boundaries of what’s possible at MIT?”A growing ideaMohammed Hannan, founder of Hannan Healthy Foods, first met Paxson and Jones in 2022. Jones was looking for someone local who grew vegetables common in Asian cuisine in response to a student request. Paxson wanted a small farm to host a field trip for her subject 21A.155 (Food, Culture and Politics). In July, Paxson and Jones learned about an article in the Boston Globe featuring Hannan as an example of a small farmer hit hard by federal budget cuts.They knew right away they wanted to help. They pulled in Zachary Rapaport and Aleks Banas, architecture master’s students and the co-founders of MIT Farm, an organization dedicated to getting the MIT community off campus and onto local farms. This MIT contingent connected with Hannan to come up with a plan.“These projects — when they flow, they flow,” says Jones. “There was so much common ground and excitement that we were all willing to jump on calls at 7 p.m. many nights to figure it out.”After a series of rapid-fire brainstorming sessions, the group decided to host weekly volunteer sessions at Hannan’s farm during the autumn growing season and sell the harvest at a farm stand on campus.“It fits in seamlessly with the MIT motto, ‘mind and hand,’ ‘mens et manus,’ learning by doing, as well as the heart, which has been added unofficially — mind, hand, heart,” says Paxson.Jones tapped into the MITOS network for financial, operational, student, and city partners. Rapaport and Banas put out calls for volunteers. Paxson incorporated a volunteer trip into her syllabus and allocated discretionary project funding to subsidize the cost of the produce, allowing the food to be sold at 50 percent of the wholesale price that Hannan was paid for it.“The fact that MIT students, faculty, and staff could come out to the farm, and that our harvest would circulate back to campus and into the broader community — there’s an energy around it that’s very different from academics. It feels essential to be part of something so tangible,” says Rapaport.The volunteer sessions proved to be popular. Throughout the pilot, about 75 students and half a dozen faculty and staff trekked out to Lincoln from MIT’s Cambridge, Massachusetts, campus at least once to clear fields and harvest vegetables. Hannan hopes the experience will change the way they think about their food.“Harvesting the produce, knowing the operation, knowing how hard it is, it’ll stick in their brain,” he says.On that September Sunday, second-year electrical engineering and computer science major Abrianna Zhang had come out with a friend after seeing a notification on the dormspam email lists. Zhang grew up in a California suburb big on supporting local farmers, but volunteering showed her a different side of the job.“There’s a lot of work that goes into raising all these crops and then getting all this manual labor,” says Zhang. “It makes me think about the economy of things. How is this even possible … for us to gain access to organic fruits or produce at a reasonable price?”Setting up shopSince mid-September, Monday has been Farm Stand day at MIT. Tables covered in green gingham tablecloths strike through the Stata Center lobby, holding stacks of cardboard boxes filled with produce. Customers wait in line to claim their piece of the fresh harvest — carrots, potatoes, onions, tomatoes, herbs, and various greens.Many of these students typically head to off-campus grocery stores to get their fresh produce. Katie Stabb, a sophomore civil and environmental engineering major and self-proclaimed “crazy plant lady,” grows her own food in the summer, but travels far from campus to shop for her vegetables during the school year. Having this stand right at MIT gives her time back, and she’s been spreading the news to her East Campus dorm mates — even picking boxes up for them when they can’t make it themselves and helping them figure out what to do with their excess ingredients.“I have encountered having way too many chives before, but that’s new for some folks,” she says. “Last week we pooled all of our chives and I made chive pancakes, kind of like scallion pancakes.”Stabb is not alone. In a multi-question customer survey conducted at the close of the Farm Stand season, 62 percent of respondents said the Harvest Box gave them the chance to try new foods and 49 percent experimented with new recipes. Seventy percent said this project helped them increase their vegetable intake.Nearly 60 percent of the survey respondents were graduate students living off campus. Banas, one of the MIT Farm co-leads, is one of those grad students enjoying the benefits.“I was cooking and making food that I bought from the farm stand and thought, ‘Oh, this is very literally influencing my life in a positive way.’ And I’m hoping that this has a similar impact for other people,” she says.The impact goes beyond the ability of students to nourish themselves with fresh vegetables. New communities have grown from this collaboration. Jones, for example, expanded her network at MITOS by tapping into expertise and resources from MIT Dining, the Vice President for Finance Merchant Services, and the MIT Federal Credit Union.“There were just these pockets of people in every corner of MIT who know how to do these very specific things that might seem not very glamorous, but make something like this possible,” says Jones. “It’s such a positive, affirming moment when you’re starting from scratch and someone’s like, ‘This is such a cool idea, how can I help?’”Strengthening communityInviting people from MIT to connect across campus and explore beyond Cambridge has helped students and employees alike feel like they’re part of something bigger.“The community that’s grown around this work is what keeps me so engaged,” says Rapaport. “MIT can have a bit of a siloing effect. It’s easy to become so focused on your classes and academics that your world revolves around them. Farm club grew out of wanting to build connections across the student body and to see ourselves and MIT as part of a larger network of people, communities, and relationships.”This particular connection will continue to grow, as Rapaport and Banas will use their architectural expertise to lead a design-build team in developing a climate-adaptive and bio-based root cellar at Hannan Healthy Foods, to improve the farm’s winter vegetable storage conditions. Community engagement is an ethos Hannan has embraced since the start of his farming journey in 2018, motivated by a desire to provision first his family and then others with healthy food.“One thing I have done over the years, I was not trying to do farming by myself,” he says. “I always reached out to as many people as I could. The idea is, if community is not involved, they just see it as an individual business.”It’s why he gifts his volunteers huge bags of tomatoes at the end of a shift, or donates some of his harvest to food banks, or engages an advisory committee of local residents to ensure he’s filling the right needs.“There’s a reciprocal dimension to gifting that needs to continue,” says Paxson. “That is what builds and maintains community — it’s classic anthropology."And much of what’s exchanged in this type of reciprocity can’t be charted or graded or marked on a spreadsheet. It’s cooking pancakes with dorm mates. It’s meeting and appreciating new colleagues. It’s grabbing a friend to harvest cabbage on a beautiful autumn Sunday.“Seeing a student who volunteered over the weekend harvesting chives come to the market on Monday and then want to take a selfie with those chives,” says Jones. “To me, that’s a cool moment.”

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