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5 years on, the Indian Point disaster is its shutdown

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Indian Point nuclear power plant, on the east shore of the Hudson River, in northwest Westchester County, north of New York City. Units 2 and 3, shown in photo, were permanently shut at midnight on April 30, 2020 and April 30, 2021, respectively. A smaller, prototype reactor, Unit 1, operated from 1962 to 1974. Photo: Eric Harvey for the Peekskill Herald, published Sept 24, 2024.

Once upon a time, hearing “disaster” and “Indian Point” in the same sentence probably meant that the nuke plant had just spilled radiation into the Hudson. Or maybe a whistle-blower was postulating a credible meltdown scenario that could trigger a lengthy shutdown, ensuring the plant’s capacity average wouldn’t surpass 50% — the generating equivalent of a ballplayer batting .200.

But that was last-century. Now nukes are climate-friendly, thanks to atomic fission’s sidestepping fossil fuels’ heat-trapping carbon emissions. Not only that, at century’s end Indian Point vanquished its on-line reliability problems. Starting in 2001, it racked up year after year of chart-topping generating performance right up to the plant’s forced demise that commenced five years ago tonight.

From a climate standpoint, the true Indian Point disaster is the plant’s closure and dismantlement. Both reactors are now kaput, their reactor cores chopped up. Unsurprisingly, the effort to decarbonize the state power grid — New York’s lowest-hanging climate fruit — is in reverse. Emissions are mounting, and in New York City and other downstate areas formerly supplied by Indian Point, electricity is getting costlier and less dependable.

Turning off Indian Point has devastated electricity decarbonization in NY State

Rarely are opposing trends as clear as the two in the chart directly below. In the five years from 2019, just before Indian Point’s closure began, the amount of electricity made by burning fossil fuels in New York State grew in tandem with the drop in nuclear generation caused by Indian Point’s absence.

Over that 5-year term, as electricity generated statewide with nuclear power fell by 17.7 TWh, electricity generated with fossil fuels (essentially fracked methane gas) rose by 15.4 TWh a year. (A TWh, or terawatt-hour (TWh), equals a billion kWh’s.)

Chart by writer, from NYISO data extracted by Isuru Seneviratne. More details in paragraph directly below.

The loss of generation from Indian Point — 16 to 17 TWh a year, based on the 2001-2019 average — was supposed to be made up with “renewables.” Shutdown proponents, led by the advocacy group Riverkeeper, practically guaranteed it. A press release that the group issued as the hours counted down on April 30, 2020 was titled Indian Point 2 shuts down; NY’s renewable energy transition, for example. (Connoisseurs of the legendary “Dewey Defeats Truman” headline should flock to that Riverkeeper web page.) Yet increases in renewables can barely be detected in 2019-2024 statewide generation changes.

Over those five years, electricity produced statewide from wind, solar and burning forest products did grow by a healthy 70 percent. But because the starting base was small, the increase in absolute terms was a modest 6.2 TWh. Hydro-electricity, moreover, fell by 2.3 TWh, cutting the net 2019-2024 boost from renewables to a measly 3.9 terawatt-hours. Virtually the entire slack from shutting Indian Point had to be taken up by increased burning of fossil fuels — not because of gas greedheads but because no other power source was available. (The various 2019-2024 generation changes meticulously compiled by the NY Independent System Operator have been distilled into a comprehensive chart created by Isuru Seneviratne, who monitors state electricity data for the advocacy group Nuclear NY.)

Renewables won’t soon make up Indian Point’s lost output

Renewable-power sources being developed for NY State can be placed in three groups.

  1. 1,200 megawatts (MW) of new hydroelectric power being brought to NY State from Quebec via a new 339-mile long transmission line known as the Champlain Hudson Power Express (CHPE).
  2. Wind farms in the Atlantic Ocean off Long Island, beginning with the 2,070-MW Empire Wind 1 and 2 arrays south of Long Beach (my hometown).
  3. New utility-scale on-shore wind and solar in various stages of permitting and construction, comprising nearly 50 ventures totaling around 7,000 MW.

Empire Wind generation is zeroed out in “realistic” scenario due to Trump’s fear and loathing of offshore wind. Realistic scenario for solar and (onshore) wind in project pipeline assumes one-half of maximum generation.

The raw megawatt figures above may appear imposing, but less so when we account for three crucial factors:

(i) Only CHPE can provide reasonably consistent electricity, with a capacity factor between 70% and 75%; the wind and solar farms are weather- and astronomically-limited to much lower annual outputs: I posit 40% (offshore wind), 33% (onshore wind) and 15% (solar).

(ii) Offshore wind is almost certainly dead in the water (sorry!), due to the U.S. president’s implacable hatred (rooted in his belief that a nearby wind-power venture would threaten the profitability of one of his Scotland golf courses). [See addendum at end of this post.]

(iii) Not all projects in the state renewables “pipeline” will prevail through permitting obstacles, local opposition and financing problems.

The bar chart at right adjusts for these factors by presenting the prospective the three categories of new carbon-free electricity alongside Indian Point in annual terawatt-hours. The green bars sum to 27 TWh, indicating total new carbon-free generation nearly two-thirds greater than that lost when the nuke plant was taken away. The more-realistic red bar sum, 13.8 TWh, is only around half of the maximum, and is less (by 14%) than Indian Point’s lost contribution.

Let’s also face that having new renewables make up for the generation lost by closing Indian Point is a pathetically low bar. New wind and solar were supposed to contribute mightily to stopping climate change by pushing fossil fuels out of the grid . . . which they cannot do at present if their output must stand in for the carbon-free output that Indian Point was prevented from providing after 2020.

Lessons learned?

The outlook for decarbonizing the NY State power grid is grim, even if there’s a post-Trump world in which the U.S. government doesn’t throttle offshore wind as it has tried (unsuccessfully, thank goodness) to scuttle New York’s congestion pricing program. As the last bar chart shows, even bringing Empire Wind to fruition won’t make up half of Indian Point’s lost carbon-free output.

And this post hasn’t touched on the closure’s prospective toll on downstate electricity rates and reliability. Nor has it treated the possibility that deteriorating U.S.-Canada relations will put a crimp in (or surcharges on) hydro-electricity from CHPE whose expected commencement next year is the only bright spot on the horizon, so far as large projects are concerned. (Rooftop solar has gained a solid foothold in New York State, which ranks third in the U.S. in the number of homes with solar panels, according to Solar Insure. Yet making up for Indian Point’s lost carbon-free output would require roughly one million new solar homes in the state — a 5-fold addition to the 200,000 existing solar homes in the state at the end of 2024.)

Here are three lessons learned from the premature closure of Indian Point:

Lesson #1. A robust carbon tax might have saved Indian Point. Based on its average 2001-2019 electricity output, a tax of $100 per ton of emitted CO2 would have conferred an annual carbon-avoidance value of three-quarters of a billion dollars on the Indian Point plant. (Calculation: 16.5 TWh/year x 10^9 kWh/TWh x 0.9 lb of CO2/kWh (per EIA, reduced slightly from that source’s 0.96 lb average to weed out peaker plants) x 1/2000 tons per lb x $100/ton.) A monetary bounty of that magnitude would have made it more difficult for Riverkeeper and then-Gov. Andrew Cuomo to engineer Indian Point’s closure. (During the decade preceding closure, the actual price under the Regional Greenhouse Gas Initiative (RGGI) to emit a ton of CO2 averaged 20 times less: around $5/ton.)

Lesson #2. Self-appointed environmental-interest groups should not be the primary arbiter of the public interest in climate-critical matters. “Climate was not at the table when Indian Point’s fate was being sealed,” I wrote in May 2020, weeks after Indian Point began to be shut down. Riverkeeper was at the table, of course, supported by several other prominent environmental organizations whose institutional biases led them, in my view, to overestimate the real-world availability of wind and solar electricity, undervalue Indian Point’s carbon-free benefit, and over-emphasize the risks of the nuclear plant’s continued operation. The result was that the “climate consequences of shutting Indian Point [were] brushed aside,” as suggested in the subhead to my 2020 post.

Lesson #3: New Yorkers must consider adding more nuclear power capacity to the state grid. I’m starting to re-evaluate the proposition that New York State can achieve a zero-emissions electric grid without adding considerable nuclear power capacity. This widely held viewpoint (“article of faith” might be a more apt term) was critiqued in late 2023 by PhD physicist and policy analyst Leonard Rodberg, whose analytical acumen and probity I’ve admired since the 1970s, when we were colleagues in the safe energy movement, as it was then called. Len’s detailed analysis concluded that approximately 29 GW of new nuclear capacity — the equivalent of 15 Indian Point plants — will be required in addition to large amounts of offshore wind as well as solar and other “distributed” power — to reliably and affordably decarbonize the state grid by 2040 while satisfying load growth from electrifying much of the space heating and vehicular transportation now provided by combusting fossil fuels.

Addendum

Heatmap and other news outlets reported on May 20 that the U.S. Interior Department lifted its April 16 stop-work order indefinitely halting construction of the 810-MW Empire Wind 1 in the Atlantic Ocean south of Nassau County, NY. This hopeful development is tempered, however, not just by the Trump administration’s notorious fickleness but by the fact that if and when completed the 810-MW wind farm will offset only a sixth of the carbon benefit that was destroyed by Gov. Andrew Cuomo and Riverkeeper’s closure of Indian Point. See graph.

Defending NY’s Congestion Pricing Program

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This post first appeared in The Washington Spectator, which posted it yesterday, Feb. 19. We’ve edited it slightly: swapping in a more finely-grained pie chart of trips to the zone by mode, adding a Hochul-vs-Trump graphic, and substituting excerpts from and a link to Gov. Hochul’s Grand Central Station press conference in place of an earlier quote from Reinvent Albany head John Kaehny. The remaining content is the same.

  — C.K., Feb. 20, 2024

So much winning. Unjammed bridges and tunnels. Speedier deliveries. On-time buses. Calmer, more inviting streets. Fewer traffic crashes. Repairmen getting to more jobs.

Not Donald Trump’s kind of winning, however. Trump didn’t invent congestion pricing. A Nobel economist — a Canadian, at that — worked out the theory 60 years ago, and a ragtag crew of transit lovers, car inquisitors and dyed-in-the-wool urbanists spent decades importuning New York’s political establishment to put it into practice.

The president had nothing to do with the toll plan. In fact, everything about it screams woke — or does to troglodytes too blinkered to see that congestion pricing’s biggest beneficiaries are motorists, who daily reap substantial dividends in saved travel time.

So it came as no surprise that today Trump’s transportation secretary Sean Duffy told NY Gov. Kathy Hochul that the president intends to rescind federal approvals and to terminate the toll program, which went into effect in early January.

Fortunately, officials at the state-chartered Metropolitan Transportation Authority, which operates the city’s buses, subways and major bridges, and was invested half-a-dozen years ago with legal authority to administer the congestion pricing program, were ready. Mere minutes after Duffy’s announcement, the MTA filed a 51-page complaint in federal court charging Duffy, U.S. DOT and the Federal Highway Administration with usurping their statutory authority and seeking to bar them from interfering with the tolls.

Ozempic for Cities

“Am I tripping?,” shock jock Kai Cenat asked on Hot-97 last month. “Congestion pricing might actually be working.” Self-styled housing advocate YIMBYLAND pointed to plummeting subway crime and dubbed congestion pricing “the Ozempic of urbanism,” musing, “I wonder what else it can fix.”

Congestion pricing’s success at cutting traffic is winning converts.

The answer is: quite a lot. The unmistakable takeaway thus far is that just a few fewer cars goes a long way. The drop in the number of vehicles driven into the toll zone is probably 10 percent tops (conclusive data isn’t out yet). But it feels like more. In the papers and on TV, drivers are reporting less time stuck in their cars. In a recent poll, habitual car commuters to Manhattan strongly backed congestion pricing.

The “stick” that has dialed down traffic’s manifold negatives is actually fairly modest — a $9 toll to drive into Manhattan south of 60th Street. Compare that to  my calculation that a median car commute to and from the congestion zone slows down the other cars, trucks and buses in its gravitational field by an aggregate of minutes and seconds that equate to $100 worth of lost time. As the toll “carrot” kicks in, in the form of $15 billion worth of transit improvements that the toll revenues will bond, subway travel will get better and safer, helping shrink car use even more.

To be sure, traffic will rebound somewhat as drivers feel the allure of less-clogged roads. But unlike traffic cops or synchronous traffic lights or other traffic-taming nostrums perennially attempted in New York and other U.S. cities, congestion pricing will yield a durable drop in traffic. Sure, call it a miracle. I have. But the eased traffic is the predictable product of pricing “congestion causation” into car trips that collectively create traffic jams.

The Serpentine Road to Jan. 5

What looks straightforward in print was, in practice, anything but. In Diary of a Transit Miracle, published in The Washington Spectator last April, I traced the 50-year effort to define, scope, build support for, and legislate New York congestion pricing. The miracle, I wrote, was three-fold: “Winners will far outnumber losers; New York will be made healthier, calmer and more prosperous; and that this salutary measure is happening at all, after a half-century of setbacks.”

Soon enough, the triumphant odyssey was torpedoed in the bow. On June 5, Gov. Kathy Hochul, whose office has authority over the MTA and, thus, over congestion pricing, peremptorily and indefinitely “paused” its June 30 start — a perfidy I dissected in Hochul Murder Mystery. The outbreak of pro-congestion pricing support would persist, I predicted, returning the governor to the fold — as happened in November, after the election. Congestion pricing would go into effect on Jan. 5, though scaled back from the June 30 rates. The intended $15 peak toll was lowered to $9, with truck tolls and taxi and Uber surcharges reduced by 40 percent as well.

Congestion pricing supporters at Lexington Ave. and 60th Street, 12:03 a.m. Jan. 5, 2025. I’m at center, foreground, holding yellow sign and chatting with journalist-author Christopher Ketcham. Tall man smiling at right is Rit Aggarwala, who led Mayor Bloomberg’s 2007-2008 bid to enact congestion pricing and now heads the city’s Dept of Environmental Protection. Photo: Sproule Love.

Even diminished, congestion pricing promised much for New York — especially if Hochul or a successor adhered to her pledge to raise the toll to $12 in 2028 and, in 2031, to the full $15. Toll supporters gladly took the win. As midnight approached on Jan. 4, we thronged Lexington Avenue and 60th Street, braving the midnight cold to count down the final seconds of life without congestion pricing.

We were festive and appreciative. “NY ♥s drivers who pay,” read my sign. “Thank you for paying the toll,” said another. “You’re making history!,” proclaimed a third. No one asked if “you” denoted the crowd, or the drivers whizzing by, or our fair city. For a bright, shining hour, it was everyone.

Why Trump Wants to Eradicate Congestion Pricing

Once upon a time, a wannabe developer looking to make a mark in Manhattan might have bet on congestion pricing. Wharton might have schooled him that prices beat queues at sorting supply and demand. He might have paid notice in the 1980s as true-life real estate titan Dick Ravitch used his pulpit as MTA honcho to hammer home that a thriving Gotham required functional transit, which in turn required robust new revenue streams. Throughout Mike Bloomberg’s mayoralty, he might have listened as Kathy Wylde, chief of the blue-ribbon business group Partnership for New York City, repeatedly decried region-wide traffic gridlock as a $20 billion a year tax on residents and businesses.

Meanwhile, of course, Donald Trump did none of those things. From time to time he fulminated against congestion pricing, though more as a nuisance like, say, water-saving flush toilets. As president he escalated his rhetoric. In a Feb. 8 interview with the New York Post, Trump called the tolls “horrible” and “destructive to New York.” Ignoring mounting evidence like January’s big year-on-year uptick in attendance at Broadway shows, he dismissed the reductions in traffic jams, rationalizing that “Traffic is way down because people can’t come into Manhattan and it’s only going to get worse.”

That’s your standard “windshield perspective” at work, oblivious to the reality that barely one-fifth of folks coming to the Manhattan congestion zone arrived in a private vehicle prior to congestion pricing. (See chart.) True enough, a few days after Trump’s Post interview, local news sources reported a rise in Manhattan foot traffic in congestion pricing’s first month compared to the year before.

Pre-tolling, only one-fifth of person-trips to the congestion zone were via private vehicle; among regular work-commuters the share was even smaller.

Still, the Trumpian brain gazing at congestion pricing sees not a respite from traffic gridlock but oil barons’ birthright squandered on mass transit and climate. Ironically, the tolls’ direct hit to petroleum and carbon will be relatively modest; by design, congestion pricing applies just to a sliver of city driving.

If congestion pricing had a motto, it would be, “Don’t ban cars, bill them” —a mantra lost on The New York Times, which today wrote> that the tolls “aimed to discourage drivers from entering the congestion zone.” Wrong. Congestion pricing seeks to dissuade a smallish fraction of drivers — 10 to 20 percent — from doing so. The other 80 to 90 percent are meant to keep driving to ensure sufficient toll revenues to bond the promised transit investments.

Subtle truths be damned, congestion tolling is anathema to Trumpworld, where policy considerations are buried under monstrous simplification, crude disinformation, coarse slander and, most often, outright lies. Congestion pricing’s crime is that it elevates the collective interest above individual actions that threaten it. It requires drivers to Manhattan’s teeming center to either change their behavior for the common good of congestion reduction, as Paul Krugman put it recently, or to offset some of the harms from their driving by paying into a government-administered kitty — to be invested in transit betterment that will reducing congestion further.

Krugman conjectured that “hostility to New York” may be the true font of Trump’s antipathy to congestion pricing. “Many people, and Trump in particular,” Krugman wrote, “are committed to the view that [New York] is an urban hellscape. A policy that improves life in the city runs counter to that narrative and inspires visceral opposition. And Trump in particular surely wants to hurt a city that has never supported him.”

A balm for New York, if we can keep it

It’s easy to be gloomy about congestion pricing’s ability to overcome Trump’s enmity. Even if the MTA prevails over Secretary Duffy in federal court — and the Authority appears to have a strong hand — the Trump administration has myriad ways to coerce New York State into ending the program. It could slow Federal Transit Administration reimbursements to the MTA for expenditures already authorized and made. Going forward, Trump could constrict routine federal contracts to rehabilitate and build new transit. The rational choice for the state and MTA might then be to give up the toll program.

Or, Trump could hold that power in reserve as leverage to get New York City and State to fall in line or not make waves on a hundred other fronts. Not selling out congestion pricing requires Gov. Hochul to be steadfast and for Mayor Eric Adams, who began distancing himself from the tolls long before bending his knee to Trump, to leave or lose his mayoralty to a congestion pricing defender.

Hochul, for her part, is off to a rousing start. Addressing congestion pricing supporters at NY’s Grand Central Station yesterday, she said:

At 1:58 pm, President Trump tweeted, ‘Long live the king.’ I am here to say that New York hasn’t labored under a king in 250 years and we are sure as hell not going to start now… We stood up to a king and we won then. In case you do not know New Yorkers, we’re in a fight, we do not back down — not now not ever… I don’t care if you love congestion pricing or hate it, this is an attack on our sovereignty, our independence, from Washington. We are a nation of states. We are not subservient to a king or anyone else from Washington… We will not [let] the commuters of our city and our region [become] roadkill on Donald Trump’s revenge tour against New York.

But to feel the governor’s steely determination to keep congestion pricing, it’s best to hear her. This 20-minute YouTube video of her and MTA chief Janno Lieber leaves no doubt that she is more than ready to go to the mat with Trump. She sounds positively liberated.

“King” Trump vs. Gov. Hochul. Diptych courtesy of Ryder Kessler, Abundance New York.

Of one thing we can be sure: For Hochul to maintain her brave stance will require continued, sustained organizing — more of the grinding work that brought congestion pricing to life in the first place. The old saw about genius being 1 percent inspiration and 99 percent perspiration applies here.

In this trilogy’s first installment, I gave pride of place to congestion pricing theorist Bill Vickrey. So did the Times’ “Big City” columnist, in an encomium to the Nobel economist last month that implicitly treated the unceasing toil of congestion pricing’s legions of supporters over the years like so many dust bunnies.

But the Jan. 5 victory belongs not just to Vickrey and Ravitch and Wylde, or to Lieber and his relentless staff, but also to Riders Alliance, Reinvent Albany, Regional Plan Association, the Community Service Society, a revitalized Transportation Alternatives, and scores of allied organizations and associations that together coalesced into a civic force for municipal progress, good governance and improvements in our quality of life. And to the journalists who gave our labors prominence.

These organizations internalized and acted on the twin beliefs that having too many cars hurts cities, and that traffic pricing is indispensable for diminishing the automobile’s stranglehold over transportation budgets and road designs. After Hochul’s congestion pricing “pause” last June, they rose as one to block her ploy to concoct a substitute transit funding source. “We never considered it, not for a minute,” Riders Alliance senior organizer Danna Dennis told me earlier this month. “It was congestion pricing all the way.” Likewise for Liz Krueger, state senator from Manhattan’s east side, who rallied her Albany colleagues to render the governor’s gambit dead on arrival.

The result, on Jan. 5, was an epic breakthrough. For the first time in the USA, driving is being assessed a charge for some of the immense harms it wreaks on urban life. At this writing, 45 days on, the facts on the ground are everything that congestion pricing proponents dreamed of and promised. Every new day that dawns with the tolls intact puts the lie to the claims of Trump’s minions that the program is hurting New York. Sure, like Ozempic hurts the chronically obese.

It can feel unfair to have to keep on defending a program that has the force of law and is working wonders. But we must and we will.

‘Hochul Murder Mystery’ Highlights Carbon-Pricing Hurdles

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This post, a teeth-clenched corrective to my late-April Diary of a Transit Miracle, was necessitated by Kathy Hochul’s jaw-dropping “indefinite pause” (read: cancellation) of the congestion pricing program she had supported since stepping into the governorship of New York State in August 2021. Like “Diary,” it first appeared in The Washington Spectator, which posted it on June 11 as Hochul Murder Mystery.

That title placed the spotlight on Hochul, whose decision it was to abandon New York City’s congestion pricing plan; on murder, because her delay jeopardizes the precariously perched program to charge drivers to the congested (and transit-rich) heart of the NY metro area a mere fraction of the added travel delays their trips impose; and on mystery, owing to the bizarreness of her abrupt turnabout.

Six days on, however, there’s a growing sense that Hochul simply panicked . . . that her belief in (and grasp of the rationale for) imposing a robust fee on private car trips to the Manhattan central business district was too slender to withstand the criticism from motorists for bringing congestion pricing to fruition.

What’s also growing, though, is the pushback to Hochul’s peremptory, unilateral decision. Not just “the usual suspects” — transit proponents, policy wonks and urbanists — but also business interests, infrastructure contractors and good-government advocates — are mounting a sustained counterattack intended to restore the congestion pricing timeline (it had been on track to “go live” on Sunday, June 30). While that outcome may be out of reach, the final chapter in New York’s congestion pricing saga has not necessarily been written.

Nevertheless, Hochul’s pullback underscores just how hard it remains to bring about meaningful externality pricing in the United States. The high hopes we at Carbon Tax Center had invested in NYC congestion pricing as a pacesetter require that we be candid: the setback to carbon pricing, should it stand, will be considerable.

— C.K., June 17, 2024

Note: Other than the photo montage, which we have reproduced from The Spectator, graphic elements here are new.

Photo montage: Riders Alliance

Not two months ago, in a brief history of how congestion pricing triumphed in New York, I canonized New York Governor Kathy Hochul, placing her alongside transportation legends Bill Vickrey (Nobel-winning traffic theorist), Ted Kheel (transit-finance savant), and the upstart Riders Alliance that in 2019 achieved what previous campaigners could not: legislation mandating a revolutionary new toll system that would weed out enough car trips to Manhattan’s core to cut down on endemic gridlock while generating revenue to enable generational expansions of subway and bus infrastructure.

Diary of a Transit Miracle, the Spectator titled that piece. Hochul, I wrote, had proved herself “a resolute and enthusiastic” congestion pricing backer. “Her spirited support,” I said, “became the decisive ingredient in shepherding congestion pricing to safety.”

Twelve days after announcing her rescission of congestion pricing, Hochul is still being ferociously “dragged” on social media. Another tweet noted that “Hochul’s decision to blow a $15 billion hole in the MTA’s budget [means] she will get blamed for every single mass transit problem going forward in a city where the majority of people take public transit.”

So much for that fairy tale. Hochul’s June 5 edict “indefinitely pausing” congestion tolling just weeks before its June 30 start may not have killed the program. But Hochul’s governorship has been bloodied and her political prospects are hanging by a thread.

The story, though infuriating to urbanists, climate advocates and foes of big-city car-dominance who for decades had looked to New York congestion pricing for deliverance, is also juicy. It’s hard to recall a public policy story with as many tentacles as this one.

Let us count the ways.

Hochul’s late-in-the-day reversal obviously is a New York story. With congestion pricing, the nation’s largest city, possessor of a singular global brand, was poised to recapture its pre-eminence in progressive, bold innovation. Instead, its literal engine ― its subway system ― has been jilted at the altar.

It’s also a dystopian governance story, as befits the unilateral monkey-wrenching of a policy forged by thousands of individuals, agencies and organizations over years and, for some, decades. As livable-streets journalist Aaron Naparstek wrote on Twitter, Hochul and her Congressional consiglieres “aren’t just undermining congestion pricing, they’re discrediting the Democratic Party and they’re undermining faith in government and democracy.” New York Times editorial writer Mara Gay lamented that “Americans didn’t need a reason to feel more cynical about politics. But Gov. Kathy Hochul of New York has delivered one.”

And of course, it’s a traffic and transit story. How will New York City solve or at least mitigate its habitual, maddening gridlock, which, notwithstanding post-pandemic office malaise, was revealed last week by city transportation officials to have grown even more strangulating than it was in 2019.

Answer: it won’t. Without congestion pricing’s stiff but fair $15 toll to drive into Manhattan south of 60th Street during most hours, alternative measures to reduce New York’s staggeringly costly traffic gridlock will invariably succumb to the dreaded “rebound effect.”

Sign at June 12 rally across from Hochul’s midtown office. An estimated 800 New Yorkers marched for congestion pricing, chanting “Safer streets, cleaner air, Governor Hochul doesn’t care.” Photo by author.

And how will Hochul and the Metropolitan Transportation Authority she commands come up with a billion-dollar-a-year revenue stream to cover the interest on $15 billion in long-awaited investments in subway station elevators, digital train signals, and clean, electric buses?

Answer: they likely won’t. In a chessboard win for congestion pricing proponents, legislative leaders last week refused to rubber-stamp Hochul’s wished-for hike in the Payroll Mobility Tax, leaving her with no means to fund the new transit improvements, and putting at risk thousands of jobs in upstate factories as well as downstate. With congestion pricing the only apparent way to pay for these investments, the resistance stays alive.

Did I say resistance? The widespread pushback to the governor constitutes yet another tentacle to the story. If Hochul thought that protests over her surprise cancellation would peter out, she was badly mistaken. What began as public astonishment quickly turned to upset and grew to outrage, not just for its transit and traffic consequences but for its sheer stupidity (per climate-conscience Bill McKibben) and cowardice and cravenness (per congestion pricing campaigner Alex Matthiessen).

Nor is the rage confined to transit wonks and bike advocates. It is being expressed by the transit construction and engineering companies; by business leaders and real estate interests; by the Daily News’ editorial board as well as the Times’; by the unquenchable Families for Safe Streets who since 2018 have put their bodies on the line to spare future bereaved mothers; by urbanists who hoped other cities would follow in New York’s footsteps; and by “supply side progressives” desperate for America to actually address urban and suburban gridlock as well as housing and climate.

The fury at the governor shows no signs of abating. Midway through writing this article I attended a Riders Alliance protest in East New York where Hochul was derided as Congestion Kathy and Governor Gridlock and her face photoshopped on a faux Daily News headline, “Hochul to City: Drop Dead. Gov. Betrays Millions of Riders.” Every hour, it seems, brings word of a new demonstration, another rally, another elected official and civic leader resolving to harass and if need be break Kathy Hochul to put congestion pricing back on track.

Hochul’s action is also a car culture story. Though the city’s car-besieged and transit-rich Manhattan core is perfectly suited for congestion pricing, New York remains part of the United States and thus under the sway of mercenary auto and oil interests. Many of the city’s long-immiserated straphangers, moreover, aspire to car ownership and bristle over tolls they might someday pay, even though few working-class residents of Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island or the Bronx routinely motor to the congestion zone. Perhaps that is why the subway improvements that the tolls would pay for have yet to resonate with most “everyday” New Yorkers.

The distemper over the governor’s last-minute cancellation isn’t subsiding.

As well, New York’s political class is subway-avoidant and car-besotted, making them kissing cousins to suburban interests whose car windshields render them immune to transit’s value, except perhaps to keep others from clogging “their” road space. That the political ramifications eluded Gov. Hochul only adds spice to the story. That Manhattan and New York City as a whole couldn’t, last week, defy America’s “dominant car culture,” as the Times wrote in its Saturday editorial, is yet another sad aspect of the story.

We come now to the biggest and most puzzling piece of the Hochul congestion pricing saga: Why did she do it?

Why, after uttering nary a negative word about congestion pricing in her thousand days as governor, did she fold with a mere 25 days to go? Why, after extolling congestion pricing repeatedly and evincing genuine pleasure in being its tribune, did the governor move to murder it?

The standard explanation is that key national Democrats, most notably Brooklyn Congressmember and House Speaker-in-waiting Hakeem Jeffries, and perhaps senior White House officials as well, ordered Hochul to ice the June 30 launch to tamp voter defections in borderline House districts. This account is plausible if misguided, given that the four-month interval from June 30 to November 5 afforded ample time to “reset the default,” as Stockholm showed after its 2007 plunge into congestion pricing. The toll’s ostensible unpopularity would have ended up in the proverbial rearview mirror.

Yet these electoral concerns don’t fully add up. Any politician worth their salt knows not to abruptly reverse course on hot-button issues. And while altered circumstances can justify altered policies, no substantive change suddenly roiled New York’s transportation patterns, transit needs or economic vulnerabilities. Indeed, the governor’s fumbling attempts at justification have convinced no one.

Perhaps Hochul, an upstater and baby-boomer, was too ensnared in car culture to believe her own congestion pricing rhetoric. Perhaps campaign cash from automobile dealers moved her needle. Maybe she panicked and lost the words to tell Jeffries that helping him would destroy her political viability, end of conversation.

NYC Comptroller Brad Lander, a staunch supporter of congestion pricing, at a June 12 rally opposite City Hall, announcing litigation to invalidate Hochul’s tolling cancellation. Photo: Dave Colon, Streetsblog NYC.

Whatever caused Hochul to abandon congestion pricing, her blunder is of spectacular proportions, or so it appears to this city dweller. The prospective upset to drivers ― and not all drivers, insofar as some regarded the tolls as a means to speed their commutes ― seems almost quaint next to the actual rage of toll proponents and the derision from much of the public.

The governor can still right the ship. She could offer to lighten the toll burden around the edges, as I outlined last week. She could propose a June 30, 2025 referendum, an idea patterned on Stockholm, although who should be eligible to vote isn’t clear and could become its own bone of contention. She could cite the legislature’s hold on alternative transit funding and admit that Plan A was right all along.

The key word is admit. Not only is congestion pricing made for New York, its prolonged gestation has built it into expectations for transit finance, traffic management and the health of the city that cannot be easily unraveled.

Whatever precipitated Gov. Hochul’s loss of nerve, and whatever the consequences for her governorship and her remaining time in politics, she must reinstate congestion pricing. The need is too great, and the story too scandalous, to pretend that congestion pricing will go gentle into its good night.

Only a National Carbon Tax Can Halve U.S. Carbon Emissions

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The first major update of CTC’s carbon-tax model since 2021 is now in the books, calibrated to 2023 emissions and the putative emissions-reducing provisions of the Inflation Reduction Act. One result stands out: Without federal legislation mandating a robust national carbon tax, the U.S. won’t come close to achieving the hoped-for 50% decline in carbon emissions (from 2005 levels) in the reasonably foreseeable future.

A $20/$15 carbon tax could halve carbon emissions by 2035

A national carbon tax starting next year at $20/ton and rising annually by $15/ton will cut U.S. CO2 emissions in half from 2005 levels in 2035. To halve emissions by 2030 requires $25/ton for both the starting price and the annual rises.

A national carbon price that took effect in 2025 at $20 per (short) ton and rose by $15 per ton each year would, by 2035, halve U.S. emissions of carbon dioxide from fossil fuel combustion: from 6,120 million metric tons (“tonnes”) in 2005, the standard baseline year, to an estimated 3,068 million tonnes in 2035, according to CTC’s model (Excel spreadsheet, 2 MB). That computes to a 50% reduction (rounded from 49.9%).

[NB: The site hosting the Excel file is temporarily down, please check back soon.]

But without a national carbon price, our model projects U.S. emissions in 2035 of 4,606 million tonnes. That would be just 25% below 2005 emissions, putting the country only halfway to the 50%-reduction goal in 2035. And even that piddling progress entails pushing back the customary 2030 target for halving U.S. emissions to 2035, a 5-year delay.

To be fair, the “halving by 2030” goal is generally construed to encompass not just carbon dioxide but also methane, which is regarded as lower-hanging greenhouse-gas fruit on account of its relative concentration in more easily regulatable oil and gas extraction and transport. This January methane began to be subjected to emissions pricing, through a provision of the Inflation Reduction Act mandating that emissions above a certain threshold be taxed at a rate of $900 per tonne.

But even assuming an optimistic three-fourths reduction in methane and other non-carbon GHG’s, CO2 emissions from fossil fuel-burning would have to fall by 44% from 2005 to achieve an overall 50% reduction in U.S. greenhouse gas emissions. Without a national carbon price, the projected CO2 reduction from 2005 is just 17% in 2030 and, as noted, only 25% in 2035, according to CTC’s model.

Halving carbon emissions by 2030 requires a more heroic carbon tax, one starting at $25/ton in 2025 and rising annually by that amount

We also ran the CTC model to determine the carbon price level and trajectory required to halve U.S. 2005 carbon emissions by 2030 rather than 2035. Talk about a tall order! Here’s what the requisite carbon tax would look like:

  • The carbon tax would take effect in 2025 (same as in the 2035 scenario).
  • The initial price would be $25 per ton of CO2 rather than $20.
  • The annual price rise would be the same $25/ton, rather than just $15/ton in the 2035 scenario. That means reaching triple digits in the tax’s fourth year.
  • And — this is a bit technical — we’re relaxed the model assumption of the maximum annual tax rise to which the U.S. economy can fully react, from $20/ton previously to $25/ton.

It goes without saying that the present-day American political system isn’t equipped to enact and implement such an “heroic” (an adjective we prefer to “draconian”) carbon tax.

The still-lonely radical center

Prominent voices calling for carbon taxes beyond token amounts (e.g., $10 or $20 per ton with little or no increases) are precious few, not just in absolute terms but relative to the pre-2010 period in which climate concern was widespread and neither the left nor the right had been consumed by their respective demonizations: carbon pricing (on the left) or climate concern of any sort (on the right).

Indeed, here at Carbon Tax Center, we’ve traded in our web pages that previously celebrated carbon tax supporters for pages like Carbon Pricing and Environmental Justice, Progressives and Carbon Pricing, and Conservatives, all of them grouped under a heading of “Politics.” Each is essentially a litany of grievances and rejections of carbon pricing and/or climate action, period.

This chart, from CTC’s newly updated carbon tax model, shows the futility of looking for a single invention or regulation or subsidy to slash U.S. emissions. Fossil fuels suffuse our economy, making robust carbon pricing essential to achieving big across-the-board cuts.

This isn’t polarization, it’s a simultaneous disavowal by both ends of the political spectrum of the lone plausible transformational climate-preserving policy measure. (Rather than “ends” I should say “sides” of the spectrum, given that anti-pricing has spilled over from the confines of the respective extremes and now appears to occupy most of the two sides.)

Omens

Consider these two minor but telling signposts from the past week.

One was a NY Times “Sunday Review” guest essay last weekend, I’m a Young Conservative, and I Want My Party to Lead the Fight Against Climate Change, by one Benji Backer, founder-director of the American Conservation Coalition.

Alas, the essay was cut from the same generic cloth as other conservative calls to climate action. Here’s an excerpt:

We cannot address climate change or solve any other environmental issue without the buy-in and leadership of conservative America. And there are clear opportunities for climate action that conservatives can champion without sacrificing core values, from sustainable agriculture to nuclear energy and the onshoring of clean energy production.

Ho-hum. But, most strikingly, zero mention of carbon pricing — not even a nod to the revenue-neutral type such as fee-and-dividend that circumvents right-wing canards about government overreach by “dividending” the carbon revenues to households, thus correcting the market failure driving carbon emissions without “growing the government.”

So much for the right wing. On the left, I had the frustrating experience of meeting a director of an iconic American environmental organization at a public event and bonding with him over our shared dismay at the organization’s post-2016 submission to anti-carbon-pricing rhetoric . . . only to be ghosted when I tried to arrange a meet-up to possibly grow our newfound patch of common ground.

So much for dialogue in service of effective climate policy.

Can’t we bring U.S. emissions down sharply without carbon pricing?

Alas, no. U.S. emission progress perennially falls short of even modest hopes. Almost from the moment the 2022 Inflation Reduction Act — which CTC supported from the git-go — was enacted into law, it has bumped up against a calamity of transmission bottlenecks, supply-chain woes and high interest rates. Even worse, perhaps, is the legal-regulatory “default” against building almost anything, even essential elements of the clean-energy infrastructure the IRA was intended to unlock

(Just after this post went up, I came across NY Times columnist Ezra Klein and Atlantic staff writer Jerusalem Demsas’s trenchant dive into the permitting-resistance phenomenon. Their analysis traces much of today’s disabling red tape and NIMBYism to Democratic Party empathy that prioritizes concerns about marginalized constituencies over the common good. Audio version here, transcript here.)

And let’s not overlook the emergent hellspawns of energy demand like AI processing, cyber-currency computing and ever-larger SUV’s and pickup trucks driven ever more miles, all of which threaten to pile on new carbon emissions almost as fast as incumbent emissions are removed.

As we’ve argued in post after post — just scroll through our monthly archives — these and other decarbonization derailments would be greatly alleviated by the robust carbon taxes we scoped above. Pricing the climate benefits of reduced fossil fuel use into the vast array of alternatives — from clean energy to all the ways of using less — will raise their profitability and, before long, bend society’s defaults toward replacing fossil fuels.

Our updated carbon-tax model shows that U.S. carbon emissions fell by 2.3% from 2022 to 2023. If there weren’t a climate emergency, that might qualify as a decent win. But in our real, overheating world, that rate doesn’t come close to the 4.1% compound annual decline needed to halve 2005 emissions by 2035, much less the 6.9% annual emissions shrinkage required to meet the same goal in 2030.

The insufficiency of even the best-intentioned policies and programs to meet necessary carbon targets without robust carbon taxing can’t be hidden indefinitely. The carbon tax reckoning awaits.

The 2 Big Things Missing from Coverage of Nuke Plant Shutdowns

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Next month will mark four years since the Indian Point nuclear power plant north of New York City began to be shut down.

Indian Point 2 was closed on April 30, 2020. Indian Point 3’s closure followed a year later. The two units, rated at roughly 1,000 megawatts each, started operating in the mid-1970s. A half-century later, their reactor cores lie dismembered. Both units are irretrievably gone, for better or worse.

I believe the closures are for the worse — and not by a little. The loss of Indian Point’s 2,000 MW of virtually carbon-free power has set back New York’s decarbonization efforts by at least a decade. And that’s almost certainly an understatement.

I hinted at this in Drones With Hacksaws: Climate Consequences of Shutting Indian Point Can’t Be Brushed Aside, a May 2020 post in the NY-area outlet Gotham Gazette. Over time I grew more outspoken. In two posts for The Nation in April 2022 (here and here) I invoked Indian Point to urge Californians to revoke a parallel plan to close Pacific Gas & Electric’s two-unit Diablo Canyon nuclear plant, which I followed up with a plea to Gov. Gavin Newsom to scuttle the shutdown deal, co-signed by clean-air advocate Armond Cohen and whole-earth avatar Stewart Brand. Which the governor did, last year.

Once I had regarded nuclear plant closures as no big deal. Now I was telling all who would listen that junking high-performing thousand-megawatt reactors on either coast was a monstrous climate crime, the carbon equivalent to decapitating many hundreds of giant wind turbines — a metaphor I employed in my Gotham Gazette post. My turnaround rested on two clear but overlooked points.

One was that nearly all extant U.S. nukes had long ago morphed from chronic inconsistency into rock-solid generators of massive volumes of carbon-free kilowatt-hours, with “capacity factors” reliably hitting 90% or even higher. This positive change should have put to rest the antinuclear movement’s shopworn “aging and unsafe” narrative about our 90-odd operating reactors. It also elevated the plants’ economic and climate value, making politically forced closures far more costly than most of us had imagined.

The other new point is connected to carbon and climate: The effort to have “renewables” (wind, solar and occasionally hydro) fill the hole left from closing Indian Point or other nuclear plants isn’t just tendentious and difficult. Rather, the very construct that one set of zero-carbon generators (renewables) can “replace” another (nuclear) with no climate cost is simplistic if not downright false, as I explain further below.

These new ideas came to mind as I read a major story this week on the consequences of Indian Point’s closure in The Guardian by Oliver Milman, the paper’s longtime chief environment correspondent. To his credit, Milman delved pretty deeply into the impacts of reactor closures — more so than any prominent journalist has done to date. Nonetheless, it’s time for coverage of nuclear closures to go further. To assist, I’ve posted Milman’s story verbatim, with my responses alongside.

A nuclear plant’s closure was hailed as a green win. Then emissions went up.

By Oliver Milman, The Guardian, March 20, 2024

When New York’s deteriorating and unloved Indian Point nuclear plant finally shuttered in 2021, its demise was met with delight from environmentalists who had long demanded it be scrapped.

But there has been a sting in the tail – since the closure, New York’s greenhouse gas emissions have gone up.

Castigated for its impact upon the surrounding environment and feared for its potential to unleash disaster close to the heart of New York City, Indian Point nevertheless supplied a large chunk of the state’s carbon-free electricity.

Guardian graphic using eGRID data for NYCW subregion. The chart’s other half was excised to fit the available space.

Since the plant’s closure, it has been gas, rather then clean energy such as solar and wind, that has filled the void, leaving New York City in the embarrassing situation of seeing its planet-heating emissions jump in recent years to the point its power grid is now dirtier than Texas’s, as well as the US average.

“From a climate change point of view it’s been a real step backwards and made it harder for New York City to decarbonize its electricity supply than it could’ve been,” said Ben Furnas, a climate and energy policy expert at Cornell University. “This has been a cautionary tale that has left New York in a really challenging spot.”

The closure of Indian Point raises sticky questions for the green movement and states such as New York that are looking to slash carbon pollution. Should long-held concerns about nuclear be shelved due to the overriding challenge of the climate crisis? If so, what should be done about the US’s fleet of ageing nuclear plants?

For those who spent decades fighting Indian Point, the power plant had few redeeming qualities even in an era of escalating global heating. Perched on the banks of the Hudson River about 25 miles north of Manhattan, the hulking facility started operation in the 1960s and its three reactors at one point contributed about a quarter of New York City’s power.

(Guardian/Milman continued)

It faced a constant barrage of criticism over safety concerns, however, particularly around the leaking of radioactive material into groundwater and for harm caused to fish when the river’s water was used for cooling. Pressure from Andrew Cuomo, New York’s then governor, and Bernie Sanders – the senator called Indian Point a “catastrophe waiting to happen” – led to a phased closure announced in 2017, with the two remaining reactors shutting in 2020 and 2021.

The closure was cause for jubilation in green circles, with Mark Ruffalo, the actor and environmentalist, calling the plant’s end “a BIG deal”. He added in a video: “Let’s get beyond Indian Point.” New York has two other nuclear stations, which have also faced opposition, that have licenses set to expire this decade.

But rather than immediately usher in a new dawn of clean energy, Indian Point’s departure spurred a jump in planet-heating emissions. New York upped its consumption of readily available gas to make up its shortfall in 2020 and again in 2021, as nuclear dropped to just a fifth of the state’s electricity generation, down from about a third before Indian Point’s closure.

This reversal will not itself wreck New York’s goal of making its grid emissions-free by 2040. Two major projects bringing Canadian hydropower and upstate solar and wind electricity will come online by 2027, while the state is pushing ahead with new offshore wind projects – New York’s first offshore turbines started whirring last week. Kathy Hochul, New York’s governor, has vowed the state will “build a cleaner, greener future for all New Yorkers.”

Even as renewable energy blossoms at a gathering pace in the US, though, it is gas that remains the most common fallback for utilities once they take nuclear offline, according to Furnas. This mirrors a situation faced by Germany after it looked to move away from nuclear in the wake of the Fukushima disaster in 2011, only to fall back on coal, the dirtiest of all fossil fuels, as a temporary replacement.

“As renewables are being built we still need energy for when the wind isn’t blowing and the sun isn’t shining and most often it’s gas that is doing that,” said Furnas. “It’s a harrowing dynamic. Taking away a big slice of clean energy coming from nuclear can be a self-inflicted wound from a climate change point of view.”

With the world barreling towards disastrous climate change impacts due to the dawdling pace of emissions cuts, some environmentalists have set aside reservations and accepted nuclear as an expedient power source. The US currently derives about a fifth of its electricity from nuclear power.

Bill McKibben, author, activist and founder of 350.org, said that the position “of the people I know and trust” is that “if you have an existing nuke, keep it open if you can. I think most people are agnostic on new nuclear, hoping that the next generation of reactors might pan out but fearing that they’ll be too expensive.

“The hard part for nuclear, aside from all the traditional and still applicable safety caveats, is that sun and wind and batteries just keep getting cheaper and cheaper, which means the nuclear industry increasingly depends on political gamesmanship to get public funding,” McKibben added.

(Guardian/Milman continued)

Wariness over nuclear has long been a central tenet of the environmental movement, though, and opponents point to concerns over nuclear waste, localized pollution and the chance, albeit unlikely, of a major disaster. In California, a coalition of green groups recently filed a lawsuit to try to force the closure of the Diablo Canyon facility, which provides about 8% of the state’s electricity.

“Diablo Canyon has not received the safety upgrades and maintenance it needs and we are dubious that nuclear is safe in any regard, let alone without these upgrades – it’s a huge problem,” said Hallie Templeton, legal director of Friends of the Earth, which was founded in 1969 to, among other things, oppose Diablo Canyon.

Templeton said the groups were alarmed over Diablo Canyon’s discharge of waste water into the environment and the possibility an earthquake could trigger a disastrous leak of nuclear waste. A previous Friends of the Earth deal with the plant’s operator, PG&E, to shutter Diablo Canyon was clouded by state legislation allowing the facility to remain open for another five years, and potentially longer, which Templeton said was a “twist of the knife” to opponents.

“We are not stuck in the past – we are embracing renewable energy technology like solar and wind,” she said. “There was ample notice for everyone to get their houses in order and switch over to solar and wind and they didn’t do anything. The main beneficiary of all this is the corporation making money out of this plant remaining active for longer.”

Meanwhile, supporters of nuclear – some online fans have been called “nuclear bros” – claim the energy source has moved past the specter of Chernobyl and into a new era of small modular nuclear reactors. Amazon recently purchased a nuclear-powered data center, while Bill Gates has also plowed investment into the technology. Rising electricity bills, as well as the climate crisis, are causing people to reassess nuclear, advocates say.

“Things have changed drastically – five years ago I would get a very hostile response when talking about nuclear, now people are just so much more open about it,” said Grace Stanke, a nuclear fuels engineer and former Miss America who regularly gives talks on the benefits of nuclear.

“I find that young people really want to have a discussion about nuclear because of climate change, but people of all ages want reliable, accessible energy,” she said. “Nuclear can provide that.”

The forces that won Indian Point’s closure were blind to the climate cost. 

By Charles Komanoff, Carbon Tax Center, March 23, 2024

New Reality #1: Indian Point wasn’t “deteriorating” when it was closed.

“Deteriorating and unloved” is how Milman characterized Indian Point in his lede. “Unloved?” Sure, though probably no U.S. generating station has been fondly embraced since Woody Guthrie rhapsodized about the Grand Coulee Dam in the 1940s.

But “deteriorating”? How could a power plant on the verge of collapse run for two decades at greater than 90% of its maximum capacity?

Calculations by author from International Atomic Energy Agency data. Diablo Canyon has also averaged over 90% CF since 2000.

Had Indian Point been less productive, the jump in the metropolitan area’s carbon emission rate would have been far less than the apparent 60 percent increase in the Guardian graph at left. Though the “electrify everything” community is loath to discuss it, the emissions surge from closing Indian Point significantly diminishes the purported climate benefit from shifting vehicles, heating, cooking and industry from combustion to electricity .

The impetus for shutting Indian Point largely came through, not from then-Gov. Cuomo.

Milman pins the decision to close Indian Point on NY Gov. Andrew Cuomo and Vermont’s U.S. Senator Bernie Sanders. While Cuomo backed and brokered the deal (which Sanders had nothing to do with), the real push came from a coalition of NY-area environmental activists led by Riverkeeper, who, as he notes, “spent decades fighting Indian Point.” And it was relentless.

The wellsprings of their fight were many, from Cold War fears of anything nuclear to a fierce devotion to the Hudson River ecosystem, which Indian Point threatened not through occasional minor radioactive leaks but via larval striped bass entrainment on the plant’s intake screens. Their fight was of course supercharged by the 1979 Three Mile Island reactor meltdown in Pennsylvania and, later, by the 9/11 hijackers’ Hudson River flight path. But as I pointed out in Gotham Gazette, few shutdown proponents had carbon reduction in their organizational DNA. None had ever built anything, leaving many with a fantasyland conception of the work required to substitute green capacity for Indian Point.

(CTC/Komanoff continued)

And while the shutdown forces proclaimed their love for wind and solar, their understanding of electric grids and nukes was stuck in the past. To them, Indian Point was Three Mile Island (or Chernobyl) on the Hudson — never mind that by the mid-2010s U.S. nuclear power plants had multiplied their pre-TMI operating experience twenty-fold with nary a mishap.

No, in most anti-nukers’ minds, Indian Point would forever be a bumbling menace incapable of rising above its previous-century average 50% capacity factor (see graph above). Most either ignored the plant’s born-again 90% online mark or viewed it as proof of lax oversight by a co-opted Nuclear Regulatory Commission.

Note too that the “hulking facility,” as Milman termed Indian Point, lay a very considerable 35 air miles from Columbus Circle, rather than “25 miles north of Manhattan,” a figure that references the borough’s uninhabited northern tip. NYC residents had more immediate concerns, leaving fear and loathing over the nukes to be concentrated among the plant’s Westchester neighbors (Cuomo’s backyard). Which raises the question of why in-city environmental justice groups failed to question the shutdown, which is now impeding closure of polluting “peaker” plants in their own Brooklyn, Queens and Bronx backyards.

Still, the shutdown campaigners’ most grievous lapse was their failure to grasp that the new climate imperative requires a radically different conceptual framework for gauging nuclear power.

New Reality #2: Wind and solar that are replacing Indian Point can’t also reduce fossil fuels.

It’s dispiriting to contemplate the effort required to create enough new carbon-free electricity to generate Indian Point’s lost carbon-free output. Think 500 giant offshore wind turbines, each rated at 8 megawatts. (Wind farms need twice the capacity of Indian Point, i.e., 4,000 MW vs. 2,000, to offset their lesser capacity factor.)

What about solar PV? Its capacity disadvantage vis-a-vis Indian Point’s 90% is five- or even six-fold, meaning 10,000 or more megawatts of new solar to replace Indian Point. I won’t even try to calculate how many solar buildings that would require. But this is where Indian Point’s 90% capacity factor is so daunting; had the plant stayed mired at 60%, the capacity ratios to replace it would be a third less steep.

But wait . . . it’s even worse. These massive infusions of wind or solar are supposed to be reducing fossil fuel use by helping the grid phase out gas (methane) fired electricity. Which they cannot do, if they first need to stand in for the carbon-free generation that Indian Point was providing before it was shut.

So when Riverkeeper pledged in 2015-2017, or Friends of the Earth’s legal director told the Guardian‘s Milman that “we are embracing renewable energy technology like solar and wind,” they’re misrepresenting renewables’ capacity to help nuclear-depleted grids cut down on carbon. Shutting a functioning nuclear power plant puts the grid into a deep carbon-reduction hole — one that new solar and wind must first fill, at great expense, before further barrages of turbines and panels can actually be said to be keeping fossil fuels in the ground.

(CTC/Komanoff continued)

I suspect that not one in a hundred shut-nukes-now campaigners grasps this frame of reference. I certainly didn’t, until one day in April 2020, mere weeks before Indian Point 2 would be turned off, when an activist with Nuclear NY phoned me out of the blue and hurled this new paradigm at me. Before then, I was stuck in the “grid sufficiency” framework that was limited to having enough megawatts to keep everyone’s A/C’s running on peak summer days. The idea that the next giant batch or two of renewables will only keep CO2 emissions running in place rather than reduce them was new and startling. And irrefutably true.

To be clear, I don’t criticize Milman for missing this new paradigm. He’s a journalist, not an analyst or activist. It’s on us climate advocates to propagate it till it reaches reportorial critical mass.

I credit Milman for giving FoE’s legal director free rein about Diablo. “There was ample notice for everyone to get their houses in order and switch over to solar and wind and they didn’t do anything,” she told him.

Goodness. Everyone [who? California government? PG&E? green entrepreneurs?] didn’t do anything to switch over to solar and wind. Welcome to reality, Friends of the Earth!

I knew FoE’s legendary founder David Brower personally. I and legions of others were inspired in the 1960s and 1970s by his implacable refusal to accede to the world as it was and his monumental determination to build a better one. But reality has its own implacability. The difficulty of bringing actual wind and solar projects (and more energy-efficiency) to fruition has the sad corollary that shutting viable nuclear plants consigns long-sought big blocks of renewables to being mere restorers of the untenable climate status quo.

In closing: Contrary to Milman (and NY Gov. Kathy Hochul), Indian Point’s closure will wreck NY’s goal of an emissions-free grid by 2040.

“Two major projects bringing Canadian hydropower and upstate solar and wind electricity will come online by 2027,” Milman wrote, referencing the Champlain-Hudson Power Express transmission line and Clean Path NY. But their combined annual output will only match Indian Point’s lost carbon-free production. Considering that loss, the two ventures can’t be credited with actually pushing fossil fuels out of the grid. That will require massive new clean power ventures, few of which are on the horizon.

I’ve written about the travails of getting big, difference-making offshore wind farms up and running in New York. I’ve argued that robust carbon pricing could help neutralize the inflationary pressures, supply bottlenecks, higher interest rates and pervasive NIMBY-ism that have led some wind developers to deep-six big projects.

Though I’ve yet to fully “do the math,” my decades adjacent to the electricity industry (1970-1995) and indeed my long career in policy analysis tell me that New York’s grid won’t even reach 80% carbon-free by 2040 unless the state or, better, Washington legislates a palpable carbon price that incentivizes large-scale demand reductions along with faster uptake of new wind, solar and, perhaps, nuclear.

Don’t Subsidize Super-Drivers, Soak Them

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Streetsblog USA this morning published my essay, Instead of Subsidizing the ‘Super-Drivers,’ We Should Soak Them: Piling subsidies on subsidies, even if well-meaning, fails to rein in the full cost of driving. I’ve cross-posted it here to allow comments and add tables and graphics.

 — C.K., Jan. 29, 2024

One-tenth of American motorists, we’ve just learned, consume more than a third of U.S. gasoline.

This lead-footed cohort, dubbed “superusers” in a recent analysis, burn almost as much fuel — and, thus, spew nearly as much carbon dioxide — as all auto drivers in China. Or, reformulated, the most motor-dependent one-tenth of U.S. drivers burn the same amount of gasoline and thus generate the same carbon emissions as all motorists in the European Union and Brazil combined.

The analysis, by Seattle-based Coltura, casts a harsh light on America’s transportation culture. Unfortunately the firm’s policy prescription — new subsidies to entice superusers into buying climate-friendlier electric vehicles — is a mere Band Aid, and an ineffectual one to boot.

What Coltura’s Analysis Shows

The most startling revelation from the Coltura analysis is the rank inefficiency of the superusers’ rides. You would think that anyone driving 110 miles a day — the purported average for the 21 million superusers identified in the report — would rush to the nearest used-car lot and drive off in a high-mileage vehicle. But you would be wrong. Coltura’s traveling tenth eke out a measly 19.5 miles a gallon, on average. That’s a whopping 18 percent worse than ordinary drivers’ average.

The toll on superusers’ household budgets is staggering: an average $530 monthly tab at the pump, according to Coltura. Upping their mpg to merely the same 24 mph average as other motorists would save them $97 a month. Those savings would hit $175 if the superusers clambered further up the mpg ladder and outdid the norm by the same percentage (18 percent) they now lag it. Annualized, that’s a cool two thou per vehicle.

Summing Agriculture and Blue Collar, and apportioning Other among the eight prior categories, only 24% of superusers are doing physical work that might require a large vehicle.

What’s that, you say, superusers are lugging drywall and cement mix and portable generators all over the county and can’t do with a more modest ride? Nonsense. According to Coltura, only 19.1 percent of superusers are blue-collar workers. Throw in another 0.7 percent who work in agriculture, and at most 20 percent routinely haul mountains of stuff requiring a pickup or SUV. The rest are professional/legal (16 percent), business/finance (15 percent), office/administration (10 percent) and other non-physical workers. Even if we prorate the 17 percent of superusers classified as “other,” at most 24 percent of Coltura’s traveling tenth qualify as Grainger’s “the ones who get it done” who might need a kick-ass vehicle with which to do it.

If you really want your head to explode, check out Coltura’s list of superusers’ 20 most popular vehicles, shown below. The Chevy Silverado is the choice of 7.4 percent of superusers, followed closely by Ford’s F-150 (6.4 percent). Both are EPA-ranked at 20 mpg. You have to drop down to #12 on the list to find the first vehicle that’s not an SUV or pickup: a 27-mpg Honda Accord. All told, no more than a handful of the top 20 are sedans.

Their Solution … And Ours

What to do? Ordinarily, one wouldn’t need to care that close to 20 million Americans are too Foxed-up or broke to dump their vampiric, oversized vehicles or off-ramp their road-warrior routines. After all, superusers have chosen to bust their budgets and warp their daily lives, right? Except, duh, the climate we all inhabit is breaking under their emissions — not to mention the myriad other damages from driving 110 miles a day: crashes, traffic, “local” air pollution. As I said up front, society has an interest in enticing them, somehow, into less-inefficient vehicles.

By crunching these figures from Coltura, we calculated that superusers’ average gas mileage is just 19.5 mpg. The U.S. 2021 light-duty fleet average of 22.4 mpg (per FHWA “Highway Statistics,” Table vm1) computes to 23.9 without superusers.

Coltura’s solution is to tie electric-vehicle incentives, messaging and perhaps even provision of charging infrastructure, to drivers’ current gasoline consumption. Validated superusers, based on sworn statements of odometer readings and vehicle make and model (hence, mpg) would qualify for extra rebates, financing and other inducements beyond those offered in the Biden Inflation Reduction Act. These would weaken the glue — economic, ideological or otherwise — that binds superusers to their gas-guzzlers even though it’s worth asking: Why do we need to subsidize someone into buying an EV when switching to a battery-powered car or truck would at once zero out the $6,000 that the average superuser shells out annually on gasoline?

At first blush, Coltura’s approach has a ring of reasonableness. But vagueness suffuses it, not just in the Coltura report, but in its lead authors’ 2022 podcast interview with climate-energy pundit David Roberts. In fact, on closer examination the whole idea comes off as a pig in a poke, with its administrative apparatus, the gaming, the appeals, the interminable wrangling to fashion the “right” incentives and eligibility. Not to mention the inevitable special pleading of “disadvantaged” motorists who almost qualify as superusers but not quite. And the jockeying in states or Congress to pay for the incentives and the bureaucracy.

What makes this prospect especially dispiriting is the existence of an alternative policy instrument that, compared to Coltura’s “targeted” but cumbersome intervention, could do far more to cut gasoline consumption — not just by superusers but by all U.S. motorists: concerted increases in U.S. motor fuel taxes.

Gasoline taxes can be raised in two ways: by boosting the U.S. excise tax, which has been stuck at 18.4 cents a gallon since Oct. 1, 1993 (losing half its heft to inflation since then); or by instituting a carbon tax, which would raise the prices of all fossil fuels including petroleum products.

Resistance to auto dependence was more radical three decades ago, as in this 1993 Village Voice broadside by journalist Daniel Lazare.

The impact on usage would be small in the short run, but it would rise over time, as households switched to higher-mpg vehicles, cities and suburbs up-zoned, and cultural norms adapted to costlier driving. EV’s would be elevated, of course, but vehicle electrification would be only one of many means of getting off gasoline.

My regression analyses of U.S. gasoline demand — a subject I’ve studied for decades — suggest that a $1 increase in the price at the pump would trigger only a 3- to 4-percent drop in usage overnight, but triple that impact within a decade — roughly the same decrease as eliminating one-third of U.S. superusers’ consumption. But that’s just a start. My 1960-2015 data don’t reflect changing societal currents, nor do they capture digital tech’s potential to match people with nearby jobs or connect similarly-directed travelers to enable work and play with fewer miles driven.

“Making other arrangements” in the face of climate chaos is how the social critic James Howard Kunstler once referred to this social reconfiguration. Sadly, as the caterwauling against New York’s congestion pricing program by entrenched interests from New Jersey politicians to teachers’ union bosses attests, the American ethos today is to cling to dysfunction rather than attempt change.

This isn’t to make light of either the jarring changes that superuser motorists will face from robust fuel taxes, or the political difficulty of enacting them. (The website of my Carbon Tax Center is replete with potential antidotes to both, even as it acknowledges the difficulties.)

Nevertheless, these hurdles shouldn’t deter carbon-tax advocates from advocating much higher fuel taxation. Piling subsidies on subsidies, even if well-meaning, only makes our system more complex and opaque. If we don’t advocate for full-cost pricing that tells the truth about motorization, who will?

What the Green Transition’s “Missing Profits” Really Mean

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For a moment last week it looked like the New York Times was heeding CTC’s summons to tax carbon emissions as a way to make faltering clean-energy projects profitable.

NY Times op-ed by David Wallace-Wells, Jan. 10, 2024. His “missing profits” aren’t the same as ours.

The come-on appeared in the headline for an opinion piece, Missing Profits May Be a Problem for the Green Transition, by the Times’ climate columnist David Wallace-Wells. MISSING PROFITS! Was Wallace-Wells pursuing the idea I floated two months ago in a CTC blog, that a U.S. carbon tax could lift the prevailing price of grid power by enough to offset the cost creep that is killing off off East Coast wind and solar projects along with an innovative nuclear power venture in Idaho?

Not quite. The “missing profits” in the Times column did not refer to the revenue boost that carbon-free power projects should but don’t get for the climate benefit they create by keeping fossil fuels in the ground. Rather, it referred to collapsing returns inflicted on renewable energy projects by higher interest rates, stretched-out schedules and cost escalation endemic to first-of-a-kind projects like enormous offshore wind turbines (East Coast) and small modular reactors (Idaho).

Nevertheless, “missing profits” is a keeper phrase. Though it’s less poetic than “gainsharing,” the neologism we deployed in that Nov. 10 post (Gainsharing: Carbon Taxes Can Put Clean Energy Back in the Black), the phrase is more to the point: The lack of robust carbon pricing manifests as missing profits that beset every project, policy and gesture that promises to reduce use of fossil fuels and, thus, to avert and reduce carbon emissions.

Leave the idea, take the expression, “Godfather” movie character Pete Clemenza might have said.

What was the idea, then, in Wallace-Wells’ Times column? Mostly that the prospective profits from wind and solar projects are downright meager compared to returns on oil and gas supply investments.

True enough, and unsettling. But the antidote advanced in the column is almost diametrically opposite ours. We want a robust U.S. carbon price “to put clean energy projects back in the black.” In contrast, Uppsala University (Sweden) geographer Brett Christophers, the avatar of Wallace-Wells’ column, wants “public ownership of the power sector.”

Yes, but which price is wrong? Christophers writes in his forthcoming book that renewables cost too much and need public investment. We say *fossil fuels* are priced *too low* and require carbon pricing.

I haven’t read Christophers’ new book, The Price Is Wrong — its publication is set for March. But its contours seem clear from Wallace-Wells’ column and from Christophers’ own NYT guest essay last May, Why Are We Allowing the Private Sector to Take Over Our Public Works?

In that essay, Christophers took dead aim at the Biden administration’s signature climate achievement, the Inflation Reducation Act. “The I.R.A. will help accelerate the growing private ownership of U.S. infrastructure and, in particular, its concentration among a handful of global asset managers,” he warned.

“It is wrong,” Christophers continued, to cast the I.R.A. and other Biden legislation as “a renewal of President Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal infrastructure programs of the 1930s.”

The signature feature of the New Deal was public ownership: Even as private firms carried out many of the tens of thousands of construction projects, almost all of the new infrastructure was funded and owned publicly. These were public works. Public ownership of major infrastructure has been an American mainstay ever since. [I]n political-economic terms, Mr. Biden, far from assuming Roosevelt’s mantle, has actually been dismantling the Rooseveltian legacy. (emphasis added)

That may be, though claiming Biden is dismantling FDR’s legacy is quite a stretch. For his part, Wallace-Wells summarized the conundrum of green power’s newly spiking capital and interest costs as follows:

For Christophers, this is a challenge that implies its own solution: public ownership of the power sector. If all that stands between our bumpy “mid-transition” status quo and an abundant clean-energy future for all is an initial hurdle of investment, why strain to extract that investment from private investors who’d prefer to invest elsewhere?

Again, perhaps. But treating renewables’ upfront-cost hurdle as a minor matter to be tweaked, as Wallace-Wells suggests, has an air of whistling past the graveyard. What if the findings from the International Energy Agency and Bloomberg New Energy Finance, touted by Wallace-Wells and countless others, that new wind and solar arrays pencil out cheaper than equivalent electricity generated with coal or methane, are simplistic or plain wrong?

To his credit, Wallace-Wells allowed in his column that U.S. public power agencies traditionally have been “obstacles to a rapid transition [from fossil fuels]” rather than “models of hyperdecarbonization.” But it’s also true that some entities of government, including New York State, have strong public works traditions. Indeed, some historians view Franklin D. Roosevelt’s tenure as governor as a testing ground for ideas such as unemployment insurance and old-age pensions that his presidency made foundational to the New Deal.

Chart, reprinted from our Nov. 2023 “Gainsharing” post (link in text), has back-of-the-envelope estimates of the “missing profits” clean-energy projects could capture under carbon pricing.

In this light, CTC sees potential in New York’s new (2023) Build Public Renewables Act, which authorizes the NY Power Authority to build and own renewable power projects. At the same time, we’re mindful that public financing of clean power constitutes a subsidy, albeit an indirect one, and that the U.S. tax code already provides considerable subsidies to wind and solar power — subsidies that the I.R.A. extended to the entire electrification effort (EV’s, batteries, transmission, manufacture) of which wind and solar are key components.

Still, the virtues and pitfalls of public investment in clean power are worthy of public conversation, not just in the U.S. but “in the poorer parts of the world,” as Wallace-Wells notes, where hundreds of millions lack access to electricity of any stripe, in part because “capital costs of new infrastructure can be prohibitively high even in the absence of supply shocks and global inflation conditions.”

Our focus at CTC, however, is the United States, home of the world’s most inventive entrepreneurs and its most efficient capital markets. Without shutting the door against public investment, we are tantalized by the possibility that clean power’s cost hiccups could be overcome through robust carbon pricing. Unlike subsidies, carbon pricing won’t “accelerate the growing private ownership of U.S. infrastructure and, in particular, its concentration among a handful of global asset managers” — the specter raised against the I.R.A. by Brett Christophers in his May 2023 Times guest essay.

Carbon pricing doesn’t play favorites and is resistant to gaming. It’s ecumenical, technology-neutral and pervasive. It raises all low-carbon boats — energy efficiency and conservation as well as renewables. Whether it can actually make clean-power projects profitable on a vast scale is a question we at CTC intend to explore.

Strawberry Yields Forever: A tax on California groundwater broadens the case for carbon pricing

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Please admit California’s Pajaro Valley to the storehouse of evidence that charging a fee to use scarce resources can stretch those resources, to the benefit of all.

Never heard of Pajaro Valley? Me neither, until I came across NY Times climate reporter Coral Davenport’s compelling end-of-year story, Strawberry Case Study: What if Farmers Had to Pay for Water? Turns out I once hitch-hiked there en route to the spectacular Big Sur coast south of Monterey. But the payoff today is in the story’s subhead: With aquifers nationwide in dangerous decline, one part of California has tried essentially taxing groundwater. New research shows it’s working.

California’s Pajaro Valley, at center of this Google Map, hugs the Pacific Coast midway between Santa Cruz and Monterey and straddles the two counties named for those cities.

What’s working? A charge for groundwater extracted to grow strawberries, raspberries, brussels sprouts, lettuce and kale, administered by the state-chartered Pajaro Valley Water Management Agency to prevent saltwater from the adjacent Pacific Ocean from intruding into underground aquifers. The fee, which began several decades ago at a nominal $30 per acre-foot of water to recover PVWMA’s water-metering costs, now runs as high as $400, according to Davenport.

Lest that rise seem meteoric, and today’s price appear punitive, consider that currently the agency’s total annual water fees, $12 million, equate to barely 1 percent of annual Pajaro Valley crop revenues of $1 billion. What’s more, an acre-foot — the standard volumetric for water supply — is enormous, roughly 326,000 gallons. Even the projected 2025 groundwater fee of $500 per acre-foot translates to just 0.15 cents to a gallon, or a mere one-hundredth of a cent for an 8-ounce glass of water.

To be sure, that calculation is merely illustrative; water for drinking and water for growing crops are two different things. But consider what Pajaro Valley growers get from paying for water.

First, their payments are helping assure increased supplies of crop-worthy water. Revenue from the water fees enabled PVWMA to undertake a $6 million project that captures excess rainwater from a creek near the ocean and injects it into underground wells to be used for irrigation, and a $20 million water recycling plant that cleans 5 million gallons of sewage a day and pipes it to farm fields. Next up, Davenport tells us, is an $80 million system to capture and store more rainwater for irrigation. By replenishing and “stretching’ supplies of groundwater, these investments help ensure that brackish water from the ocean doesn’t seep into Pajaro Valley wells.

Just as importantly, the growers receive a potent incentive to use available water supplies more efficiently. “Gone were the days of sprinklers that drenched fields indiscriminately,” Davenport writes. “To save money, many Pajaro farmers invested in precision irrigation technology to distribute carefully measured water exactly where it was needed.” (See text box.) Though the article doesn’t mention it, these investments by dozens of individual growers might not have materialized had not all growers been subject to the same incentives to conserve as well.

Economics

Undergirding Davenport’s upbeat reporting is a 2023 working paper, The Dynamic Impacts of Pricing Groundwater, by three economists at U-C Berkeley’s Dept. of Agricultural and Resource Economics. In academic parlance, “dynamic” doesn’t connote a Marvel superhero, it refers to changes over time. By examining changes in water usage over time, the authors conclude that each “21% price increase led to a … 22% reduction in average annual groundwater extraction” by Pajaro Valley growers.

The implied price-elasticity is roughly negative 1.3. (The paper helpfully reports that “The reduction in annual water use doubles between the first year and the fifth year after the tax, with the implied price elasticity of demand ranging from negative 0.86 to negative 1.97.) This empirically-derived price sensitivity is far greater than the price elasticities assumed in CTC’s carbon-tax model, befitting not only the greater salience of water use for growers vis-a-vis energy use for consumers and even most businesses, but the greater agency of Pajaro Valley growers who, Davenport’s reporting suggests, over time have increasingly bought into PVWMA’s groundwater fee in both theory and execution.

After reading Davenport’s article I reached out to hydrologist, climatologist and water sustainability expert Peter Gleick, whose latest book, The Three Ages of Water: Prehistoric Past, Imperiled Present, and a Hope for the Future, was published last year by Hachette / Public Affairs. Peter praised the article while preferring to denote the PVWMA groundwater charge “not [as a] tax but a fee or simply a price for a commodity.” He added, “When we pay for something, we’re more conscious of how we use it. When something is free, we’re more likely to misuse and abuse it. That’s certainly been the case historically for California groundwater.”

Carbon Taxes?

A number of posts in this space have touted — we might say “flogged” — other instances of resource or externality pricing, as possible templates for large-scale carbon pricing. In 2016 we wrote about Berkeley’s soda tax, actually a tax on the sugar content of soft drinks, and summarized research showing that sales of sugar-sweetened beverages fell 21% in that city while rising 4% in “control groups,” i.e., neighboring municipalities where soft drinks continued untaxed. Last year we explained why Congestion pricing, coming soon to New York City, could bode well for carbon-taxing — a message we previously broadcast several times in 2019 as the enabling legislation was being enacted in Albany, in March and in April.

We also dug deep in 2017, writing about an incipient NYC nickel fee on carryout bags dispensed at supermarkets, grocery and convenience stores. (The fee was a month away from taking effect, and though we haven’t yet seen before/after comparisons, anecdotal evidence suggests that trees in New York City are today far less encumbered by windblown plastic bags that we referred to then as “gossamer debris stuck, like tumors, to our half-a-million street trees.”) We can also go back half a century, to 1972, when NYC environmental officials conjured a “dirty oil surcharge” that forced petroleum suppliers to cough up a fee for each barrel of high-sulfur oil they brought into the city, a remarkably successful (but little known) instance of externality pricing that I memorialized in a 2009 post for Grist, Pollution Taxes Work.

Needless to say, none of these fees — not the soda tax, not congestion charging, not the carryout bag fee, and not the dirty oil surcharge — has paved the way for full-on carbon pricing. While each of them has been or will be a resounding success, their scale is far too local and the stakes far too small to translate automatically to national or even state-level carbon pricing. The same will hold for California’s Pajaro Valley groundwater fee. Indeed, California water districts are wrestling today with the hard work of fulfilling a state mandate requiring every part of the state to devise a plan to conserve groundwater.

Happily, Davenport notes that PVWMA officials and even some growers are advising their statewide counterparts to emulate their approach, including “local control” rather than state or even county governance. Dedicating the groundwater-fee revenues to investments to expand and extend supply, as Pajaro Valley has done, seems a no-brainer.

Less happily, Davenport notes that the Westlands Water District, which serves the state’s giant Central Valley breadbasket, is pushing a plan “that would allow growers to pay for credits to use groundwater above a certain allocation.”  The growers “could buy and sell the credits, starting at about $200 a credit,” Davenport notes. While this scheme certainly improves on the status quo of charging little or nothing for groundwater use, it’s complicated and drenched in market ideology, much as carbon cap-and-trade systems needlessly encumber what could and should be straightforward carbon pricing.

Let’s not end on that dour note, however. All instances of resource charging — whether to stretch a limited resource or to internalize pollution or other externality costs — make it easier to build support for enacting new ones. Davenport’s story — here’s the link again — is both brilliant reporting and cause for optimism.

We close with a snap of the story opening and photo as they appeared on the front page of today’s (Jan. 4, 2024) Times, above the fold. Below it are calculations in which we derived figures in the first part of this post.

 

Calculation #1: Glasses of water in an acre-foot.

  • One acre = 43,560 ft^2, so one acre-foot = 43,560 ft^3.
  • One ft^3 (cubic foot) contains 957.5 fluid oz. (per inchcalculator.com; that figure jibes with the 62.4 lb weight of one cubic foot of water).
  • A standard water glass contains 8 fluid oz. Thus, one ft^3 of water can fill 957.5/8 = 120 glasses.
  • One acre-foot then contains enough water to fill 43,560 x 120 = 5.2 million glasses. Spreading a per-acre foot charge of $500 over that many glasses computes to 0.01 cents each.

Calculation #2: Groundwater-use price-elasticity inferred from empirical finding that a 21 percent price increase evokes a 22 percent decrease in usage.

  • It is tempting to reduce this roughly 1-to-1 relationship to a (negative) 1.0 price-elasticity. However, that would ignore the law of diminishing returns and, mathematically, the convex relationship between changes in price and changes in usage.
  • The price-elasticity is derived by solving for e in the equation, (1 + 0.21)^e = (1 minus 0.22).
  • Using base-10 logarithms, we have: e times log 1.21 = log 0.78, which (omitting one or two steps) leads to e = negative 1.3.

Congestion pricing, coming soon to New York City, could bode well for carbon-taxing.

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Externality pricing is coming to New York City in a big, barrier-busting form known as congestion pricing. Judging from how it’s unfolding, it might just be bold enough to give a much-needed boost to the cause of U.S. carbon pricing.

In a long-awaited step, New York’s Metropolitan Transportation Authority this week unveiled its prospective tolls to drive a car or truck into Manhattan’s central business district. Barring a last-minute reversal, the Western hemisphere’s first congestion pricing program, and the world’s biggest by far in terms of revenue, will begin next June, just six months from now.

NY Gov. Kathy Hochul (top) and CTC director Charles Komanoff (below) speaking at Dec. 5 Union Square rally celebrating the march toward congestion pricing in NYC.

The plan took half-a-century to legislate and another four-and-a-half years to flesh out, culminating, for now, in its formal approval by the MTA board on Wednesday. Autos will be charged $15 to drive into Manhattan south of 60th Street between 5am-9pm weekdays and 9am-9pm weekends and holidays. Night-time tolls will be 75 percent lower, at $3.75. Trucks will pay more than cars, and for-hire vehicle trips that touch any part of the 8-square-mile congestion zone will be surcharged $1.25 (for yellow cabs) and $2.50 (for “ride-hail” vehicles, largely Ubers). Peak-period car trips to the zone via tunnels under the Hudson and East Rivers, which already pay double-digit round-trip tolls, will get $5 off, but other exemptions or discounts will be few except for low-income residents of the zone and commuters to it. (Many details here, by the author; and here, by the MTA’s toll-setting panel.)

The 2019 state legislation authorizing the tolls requires that they generate $1 billion a year net of administrative costs — a revenue stream sufficient to bond $15 billion in transit investments. Eighty percent of that, $12 billion, is earmarked for subway improvements such as station elevators to increase accessibility and fully digital signals to allow more frequent train service; the other $3 billion will be invested in expanding commuter rail service between the suburbs and Manhattan.

[Click here to watch/hear Gov. Hochul’s remarks depicted above. Click here for Komanoff’s.]

Revenue Most Visible

The billion-dollar a year take from New York congestion pricing puts it in the same league as the Northeast states’ Regional Greenhouse Gas Initiative, which currently reaps $1.2 billion a year from sales of carbon emission permits for burning fossil fuels to make electricity. Yet “RGGI” is largely invisible to the public. So too are California’s economy-wide carbon cap-and-trade program, which started in 2013, and British Columbia’s 2008 carbon tax as well as subsequent cap-and-trade schemes elsewhere in Canada, .

Those other mechanisms rest on what former CTC staffer James Handley habitually derided as “hide the price” subterfuges. Congestion pricing, in contrast, hides nothing. Motorists know full well what they’ll soon have to pay to drive into the nation’s most gridlocked (and transit-rich) district. True, the surcharges on for-vehicle trips can be tricky to track — they add to rather than replace incumbent FHV surcharges of $2.50 and $2.75 for “taxi zone” trips in yellows and ride-hails, respectively. But congestion pricing’s main event is the fees for private car trips.

And “main event” is putting it mildly. Though the $15 peak car toll is many times less than the socially optimal toll (per Paul Krugman, whose July encomium to congestion program relied indirectly on my traffic-cost modeling) or the congestion costs imposed by a single car trip, which is nearly the same thing, it’s still a gut-punch for diehard drivers. Not only that, imposing a hefty price on car travel to capture externality costs rather than merely to pay for infrastructure provision is, let us say, deliciously transgressive in the USA. Kind of like taxing carbon emissions.

The point being: successfully implementing congestion pricing in New York — not simply putting it in place but having it deliver tangible benefits like more-reliable travel, more-livable streets and re-invigorated public transportation — conceivably could burnish carbon pricing not just in New York but nationwide.

Enacting Carbon Taxes Remains Devilishly Difficult

Let’s be clear, though. As if getting New York congestion pricing within inches of the goal line hasn’t been hard enough, enacting a national, i.e., federal carbon tax worthy of the name — one that hits triple digits within a half-dozen years or less — will be devilishly more difficult. Consider these differences between New York congestion pricing and national carbon taxing:

    1. The economic incidence of NY congestion pricing is far more income-progressive than national carbon pricing. A bulwark of CP advocacy here has been unstinting support from the Community Service Society — the city’s and nation’s oldest antipoverty NGO. It’s hard to picture comparable support for nationwide carbon pricing. Not even “dividending” carbon revenues, which CTC strongly supports, can guarantee that millions of U.S. households won’t pay more in higher fuel costs than they’ll get back in monthly carbon dividends. Inevitably and unfortunately, some will slip through the dividend’s safety net, allowing opponents to cast even the most judicious revenue treatment for carbon taxing as insufficient to protect the poor.
    2. NY congestion pricing comes with a natural route for managing the congestion revenues: investing them in long-term mass transit improvements. It was this facet, more than the promise of lessened auto traffic, that brought the city’s rich tapestry of transit advocates into the fore of the congestion pricing campaign. Even motorists — some of them, anyway — grasp improved transit’s value to them as a means of dissuading others to invade “their” road space. National carbon pricing has no such obvious path for distributing or investing its revenues. Sure, spending carbon revenues on renewables and efficiency, particularly in historically disadvantaged communities, has a nice ring, but in practice there’s no clear carbon revenue spending path that won’t disaffect vast numbers of stakeholders. Now factor in the orders-of-magnitude difference in annual dollars — a billion or so in the case of NY congestion pricing vs. half-a-trillion for a comprehensive triple-digit U.S. carbon tax. Talk about a donnybrook gap!
    3. America’s geographic vastness and cultural separateness make it nearly impossible for citizens to consistently find common ground, as evidenced by our red-vs.-blue and urban-vs.-rural polarization. Even as New York City’s sense of conjoined fate has frayed somewhat, many residents still manage to cultivate a sense of connectedness to each other. Nationally, that ship has sailed. Woody Guthrie’s “This Land Is Your Land” anthem is 80 years old. Fond hopes from the 1990s or early 2000s that combating climate change might re-invigorate Americans’ shared humanity seem almost as distant.

Antidotes

To these three difficulties we have three antidotes.

Over the prior decade, the wealthiest U.S. household quintile spent 3.3 times as much on gasoline as the poorest — evidence of the power of carbon dividends to more than offset the natural regressivity of higher energy prices.

The first is the power of carbon dividends. Even if they can’t keep whole every single low-income U.S. household — there are, after all, 65 million below-median-income families, each with its own consumption profile — the vast majority of those households will reap more in dividends than they’ll pay with the carbon tax. Not just that, the dividend approach bypasses political fights over where and how to invest the revenues.

A second possible antidote is the exigency of the climate crisis itself. Unlike NYC traffic congestion or failing transit, which public policies like congestion pricing can vanquish going forward, climate collapse can’t be reversed. This ineluctable fact could, or should, motivate climate advocates to re-evaluate their largely ideological objections to robust carbon pricing (which we discuss elsewhere in terms of climate justice campaigners and self-identified progressives). Given that people of color, whether in the U.S. or the Global South, are disproportionately vulnerable to climate chaos, hope remains that carbon-pricing opponents may reconsider their antipathy to the most efficacious policy for slashing emissions and actually protecting the populations they profess to care about.

The third, as always is organizing. Carbon-taxing proponents need to keep up the pressure. We also need to expand our tent, as we wrote about last month in Gainsharing: Carbon Taxes Can Put Clean Energy Back in the Black. We’ll have more to say soon on that score.

Gainsharing: Carbon Taxes Can Put Clean Energy Back in the Black

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Note: This post distills and extends ideas from our Nov. 1 post, The Carbon-Tax Nimby Cure.

From the East Coast to Idaho’s high desert, big green-energy investments are foundering.

Composite of (top) first U.S. SMR complex (NuScale facility, artist’s depiction) and (below) offshore wind farm (Orsted’s UK Hornsea facility). Neither was in line for more than token revenues tied to displaced carbon emissions. Both have been cancelled.

Just in the past week, Danish wind giant Orsted scuttled the 2,248-megawatt Ocean Wind farm it was developing off New Jersey’s Atlantic coast, while NuScale scrapped its planned 462-MW complex of six 77-MW small modular reactors (SMRs) near Idaho Falls.

Both ventures were viewed as door-openers to new forms of large-scale U.S. carbon-free green power. They would have contributed mightily to decarbonizing their respective grids, taking the place of fossil fuel electricity now spewing nearly 4 million metric tons of carbon dioxide each year.

Their demise, along with dimming prospects for Equinor’s 2,076-MW Empire Wind farm off Long Island, NY, suggest that the vaunted crossover point at which big green-energy investments will come seamlessly to fruition fast and hard enough to rapidly decarbonize our grids is receding.

The 1983 title denoted “hard energy” facilities like giant power stations and LNG terminals. Nowadays it also seems apt for big green-energy projects.

The causes are no mystery: supply bottlenecks, spiraling materials costs, 40-year-high interest rates, Nimby obstruction. Not all of these will necessarily persist, but suddenly the combination looks daunting. Big energy projects, once derided as “brittle” by energy guru Amory Lovins, are rife with negative synergies. Nimbys stretch project schedules and impose punishing interest costs, particularly on big wind farms, a phenomenon we wrote about a week ago in The Carbon-Tax Nimby Cure.

Alas, Joe Biden’s Inflation Reduction Act is not a panacea. IRA incentives primarily lift EV’s, rooftop solar, heat pumps, batteries and factories. By themselves they’re not going to refloat stalled clean power projects. The big push will have to come from somewhere else.

What a Robust Carbon Price Could Do for Green Energy

A robust carbon price could do the trick. Not a token price like RGGI’s $15, which is the per-metric-ton (“tonne”) of CO2 value of the 4Q 2023 permit price in the northeast US Regional Greenhouse Gas Initiative electricity generation cap-and-trade program; but $50 or more per tonne of carbon dioxide, preferably $100.

I’ve been calculating how much profit a robust carbon price could inject into clean-energy bottom lines. The numbers are so astounding that I checked and rechecked them. Here’s one: A $100/tonne carbon price in NY would allow Empire Wind to charge an additional $200 million or more each year for its output. How? Because the tax would raise the “bid price” for natural gas-generated electricity, the dominant power source and thus the price-setter on the downstate grid by so much — $30 to $35 per MWh, I estimate — that Empire Wind’s 7.25 million MWh’s a year could extract an additional $240 million in its power purchase agreement with the NY grid operator.

Lots to see here. The dollar figures, including the $/MWh bottom lines, are derived off-screen. Added revenues will be less if gas generators lower their grid prices somewhat, but will be more if the methane fee enacted as part of the 2022 IRA comes into play.

Same goes for NuScale. I estimate that its Idaho SMRs could command an additional $100 million a year (less than for Empire Wind because the project is smaller and not all of its output will replace fossil fuels). This additional value equates to $29 per MWh — nearly the same, coincidentally, as the $31/MWh climb in costs since 2021 that triggered NuScale’s cancellation, according to a report by the anti-nuclear Institute for Energy Economics and Financial Analysis.

These added payments to clean-energy developers are not “subsidies.” They arise by slashing ongoing subsidies now enjoyed by fossil fuel providers and processors — in this case the methane-gas extractors and the electricity generators that burn the fuel — by subjecting these fuels to carbon pricing. The added payments will come about as the carbon price forces the gas generators to raise their sale price to the grid (to recoup their higher price to purchase the gas), which then creates room for Empire (or NuScale) to raise its prices.

Every cent of the carbon tax revenues will remain fully available for public purposes, whether to support low-income ratepayers, or invest in more clean energy or community remediation, or, our preference at CTC, as “dividend” checks to households. None of it needs to be earmarked to Empire or NuScale for them or other clean-power generators to rebuild their profit margins. The gainsharing comes about through pricing carbon emissions, not disbursing the carbon revenues.

Adios, Nimbys?

The Not In My Back Yard crowd wasn’t an apparent factor in NuScale’s downfall. (“Regulatory creep” was, but that’s a story for another time, not to mention one I dissected 40 years ago for the peer-reviewed journal Nuclear Safety.) But they certainly were for Ocean Wind in NJ and will be in NY if Empire Wind goes down the drain.

But here’s the thing: Not only would the added revenue allowed by the carbon price help return Empire Wind to the black. It would give Equinor, the developer, the wherewithal to spread so much largesse among the residents of Long Beach, LI (my hometown!) that they could subdue the Nimbys who have been able to hold up permitting by spreading scare stories about the routing of the project’s power cables underground. Nimby-ism solved, not by suasion (a fool’s errand) but by motivating the masses in the middle who evidently require more tangible inducements than saving the climate (or their beaches or homes).

Let’s Think Big

Ocean Wind, Empire Wind and NuScale are just a few examples of carbon-free projects that could again pencil out with robust carbon pricing. The question remains, how do we get there?

The point of this new analysis isn’t so much to tie clean energy to carbon pricing, but to enlist the political power and prestige of clean-energy entrepreneurs and developers on the side of carbon-tax advocacy.

As we noted in our previous (Nov. 1) post, during headier carbon-pricing times (2007 to 2011) the Carbon Tax Center attempted, alongside allies like Friends of the Earth, the Friends Committee on National Legislation, and Citizens Climate Lobby, to induce the American Wind Energy Association, the Solar Energy Industry Association and other green-tech trade groups to join us in advocating carbon taxing. We put out similar feelers to the Nuclear Energy Institute and the American Nuclear Energy Council. Getting the U.S. nuke lobby behind carbon taxing should have been a no-brainer, given that carbon taxes that monetized the climate value of nuclear power plants’ combustion-free electricity could have supplied mega-dollars to keep extant reactors solvent.

2010 redux: Equation at left signifying “Renewable Energy cheaper than Fossil Fuels” was a cleantech meme. Button on right, created by then-CTC senior policy analyst James Handley, was less prevalent. Time to meld the two?

No dice. We weren’t granted even one conversation with the nuclear folks. The wind and solar people, for their part, insisted that unending cost reductions through increased scale and efficiency, along with green power’s inherent magical appeal, would propel them past any obstacle. Why besmirch our Randian aura with energy taxes, they seemed to say, when our tech is going to usher in energy abundance and spare earth’s climate?

Things look different now. Big, carbon-free power ventures — the ones that everyone from governors and ambassadors to scientists and schoolkids are counting on to get us off fossil fuels — are beset by troubles: financial, logistical, cultural.

Without genuine carbon pricing that accords clean energy the economic rewards to which it’s entitled, too many large-scale green energy projects are going to come up short. As we asked in that earlier post: Will clean-power developers look at this week’s NJ and Idaho losses, among others, and decide that they need a carbon tax every bit as much as the climate does?

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