Al Gore, in Al Gore Thinks Trump Will Lose and Climate Activists Will Triumph, NY Times, April 15.
Pricing carbon efficiently and equitably
The New York City Council today held a hearing on a suite of bills to limit noise from helicopter flights over New York City. The bill most pertinent to carbon taxing is a resolution supporting a proposed NY State $400 “noise tax” on flights taking off or landing at the city’s heliports.
My testimony, presented below, situates the proposed noise tax in the context of social-damage costing, also known as externality pricing. Previous CTC posts in this vein have covered NYC’s forthcoming congestion pricing plan, a California growers’ program that taxes excess withdrawals of groundwater for farming, and Berkeley, CA’s soda tax.
As can be seen from photographs of the rally prior to the council hearing, the anti-heli-noise outfit Stop The Chop NY/NJ takes a reformist position on helicopter flights. I’m more militant in both deed, having helped organize a human blockade of the West 30th Street (Hudson River) heliport last September and language, preferring the term “luxury fights” to Stop The Chop’s “nonessential flights.”
That said, I tip my hat to Stop The Chop for their scrappy advocacy that has raised the profile of helicopters’ aural and other assaults on New Yorkers’ quality of life. The bills in question would not have been written and advanced without their years of organizing.
Testimony of Charles Komanoff[1] supporting Council Bills banning nonessential helicopter flights using municipal properties, and Council Resolution 0085-2024 endorsing state legislation imposing a noise-annoyance surcharge on nonessential helicopter flights in New York City[2]. Submitted on April 16, 2024. (My statement has been lightly edited for clarity. Bracketed numbers denote endnotes.)
I emphatically support Council bills Intro 26 and Intro 70 banning nonessential helicopter flights from the two City-run heliports. In addition, as an economist specializing in environmental costing,[3] I’d like to single out for praise Council Resolution 0085-2024 endorsing state legislators Kirsten Gonzalez’s and Bobby Carroll’s bills S7216B and A7638B imposing a noise fee on nonessential helicopter flights.[4]
The Gonzalez-Carroll noise fee is $100 per occupied seat or $400 per flight, whichever amount is larger. Although these levies are less than the average helicopter flight’s apparent societal cost, they are a commendable starting point. The levies can be raised later on, as methodologies for quantifying helicopter noise costs mature — a process that will be aided by passing a related bill in the Council, Intro 27. The fees can also be lowered if quieter helicopters emerge — which the Gonzalez-Carroll bills will incentivize.
“Cost internalization,” as this kind of social-damage pricing is termed, is long overdue for helicopter noise. The luxury helicopter flights targeted by the Gonzalez and Carroll bills are completely discretionary. Anyone taking such a flight — whether to the Hamptons or JFK or for sightseeing — has money to spare, as revealed by their pricey transportation choice. Taxing helicopter noise is entirely consistent with economic justice. Moreover, these flights impose other costs beyond noise, such as carbon pollution and particulate-exhaust pollution, on everyone around or below.
Consider Blade’s JFK helicopter service from its Manhattan West 30th Street heliport — a flight covering about 15 miles. I’ve made a preliminary but serviceable calculation suggesting that one such flight lasting just seven minutes steals around $2,500 worth of peace and quiet from city residents.[5]
The Gonzalez-Carroll noise fee amounts to a roughly 40 percent surcharge to Blade’s $250 standard ticket price to JFK, making it a worthy start. Assemblymember Carroll has been a legislative leader on externalities taxing, and it’s great to see Sen. Gonzalez also taking up the cause.
A noise fee raising the price of a commuter helicopter trip by 40 percent will cut usage, hence, the number of flights, by 30 to 50 percent,[6] as some would-be passengers opt out. (Yes, just like congestion pricing, except more draconian, and deservedly so, given luxury helicopters’ societal uselessness). That will not only bring a healthy measure of peace and quiet, it will generate $10 to $15 million per year[7] — revenue that New York City can use to expand and enforce noise-abatement rules citywide.
Noise isn’t the sole harm that commuter and tourist helicopters inflict on the millions of residents below. But it is the most egregious and insulting. Every member should vote Yes on the bills to ban nonessential helicopter flights from the two City-owned heliports. And please also vote for Council Resolution 0085-2024 to make clear to your Albany counterparts that New York City’s local elected officials support the Gonzalez-Carroll helicopter noise fee.
Endnotes.[8]
[1] Policy analyst and consulting economist at KEA, 11 Hanover Square, 21st floor, New York, NY 10005. Website www.komanoff.net.
[2] This document is available on line as https://www.komanoff.net/jet_skis/Komanoff_Testimony_City_Council_Helicopter_Noise_Costs.pdf.
[3] My work quantifying and supporting NYC congestion pricing is widely known; much of it is collected here. My body of research also includes Drowning in Noise: Noise Costs of Jet Skis in the United States, a monograph co-authored with Dr. Howard Shaw and published in 2000 by the Noise Pollution Clearinghouse.
[4] Assemblymember Bobby Carroll represents part of Brooklyn. State Senator Kristen Gonzalez represents parts of Brooklyn, Queens and Manhattan.
[5] Key assumptions in my calculation of a $2,500 collective noise cost per flight from W 30 St to JFK Blade include: 625,000 households in Manhattan, Brooklyn and Queens households lie within the helicopter noise field; excess noise of 20 dBA during the average 44 seconds of noise exposure for each flight; a “Noise Depreciation Index” — reduced property value per additional decibel during exposure — of 1%. Some parameters in the calculation are placeholder values, making the resulting $2,500 estimated per-flight collective noise cost preliminary and subject to change. See Excel spreadsheet referenced in final endnote.
[6] The 30 percent reduction is associated with a price-elasticity of helicopter flights of negative 1, while the 50 percent reduction comes from a price-elasticity of negative 2. The respective calculations are: 1.4^(-1) ~ 0.7, and 1.4^(-2) ~ 0.5. (My high price-elasticity figures reflect the discretionary and luxury nature of helicopter travel.) See Excel spreadsheet referenced in final endnote.
[7] The number of helicopter flights per year that would be subject to the Gonzalez-Carroll noise tax appears to be between 50,000 and 60,000 per year. I have used the lower figure (50,000) in my calculations. Taking into account that the incorporation of the proposed tax into the price of helicopter flights would be expected to reduce the number of flights by 30 to 50 percent, and applying a per-flight noise fee of $400, the annual tax revenues, rounded, calculate to between $10 and $15 million per year (50k x $400 x 50% or 70%).
[8] An Excel spreadsheet (NYC_Helicopter_Flights_Externality_Costs.xls) with assumptions, calculations and citations supporting my preliminary $2,500 per-flight noise cost estimate, my tax revenue estimate of $10 to $15 million, and other figures in my testimony may be downloaded via this link: https://www.komanoff.net/jet_skis/NYC_Helicopter_Flights_Externality_Costs.xlsx.
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. 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? 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. |
Nearly 15 years after journalist David Owen and I tangled — and then united — over Jevons Paradox, the New York Times today published a guest essay on that subject by a Murdoch-employed London journalist. David and I went deeper and did better, as you’ll see.
Jevons Paradox denotes the tendency of economies to increase, not decrease, their use of something as they learn how to use that thing more efficiently. Its archetype, observed by Britisher William Stanley Jevons in the 1860s, was that “as steam engines became ever more efficient, Britain’s appetite for coal [to power them] increased rather than decreased,” as Sky News editor Ed Conway put it just now, in The Paradox Holding Back the Clean Energy Revolution. Why? Because the “rebound” in use of steam as its manufacture grew cheaper more than offset the direct contraction in use from the increased efficiency.
Where does David Owen come in? In 2009 he published an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal claiming that congestion pricing would never cure traffic congestion, on account of the bounce-back in traffic volumes due to lesser congestion. (Funnily enough, the Journal never runs opinion pieces maintaining that induced demand prevents highway expansions from “solving” road congestion.) My subsequent rebuttal in Streetsblog — Paradox, Schmaradox, Congestion Pricing Works — changed David’s mind. The disincentive of the congestion toll, he told me, could probably stave off enough of the rebound in driving to allow congestion pricing to fulfill its promise of curbing gridlock.
A year later, when David revisited Jevons Paradox in a scintillating New Yorker magazine narrative, The Efficiency Dilemma, he made sure to point to “capping emissions or putting a price on carbon or increasing energy taxes” as potential exit ramps from the Jevons treadmill. I was thrilled, and I published a post in Grist riffing on “The Efficiency Dilemma.” I’ve pasted it below. I hope to comment on Conway’s NY Times essay in a future post soon.
By Charles Komanoff, reprinted from Grist, Dec. 16, 2010.
One of the most penetrating critiques of energy-efficiency dogma you’ll ever read is in this week’s New Yorker (yes, the New Yorker). “The efficiency dilemma,” by David Owen, has this provocative subtitle: “If our machines use less energy, will we just use them more?” Owen’s answer is a resounding, iconoclastic, and probably correct Yes.
Owen’s thesis is that as a society becomes more energy efficient, it becomes downright inefficient not to use more. The pursuit of efficiency is smart for individuals and businesses but a dead end for energy and climate policy.
This idea isn’t wholly original. It’s known as the Jevons paradox, and it has a 150-year history of provoking bursts of discussion before being repressed from social consciousness. What Owen adds to the thread is considerable, however: a fine narrative arc; the conceptual feat of elevating the paradox from the micro level, where it is rebuttable, to the macro, where it is more robust; a compelling case study; and the courage to take on energy-efficiency guru Amory Lovins. Best of all, Owen offers a way out: raising fuel prices via energy taxes.
Thirty-five years ago, when the energy industry first ridiculed efficiency as a return ticket to the Dark Ages, it was met with a torrent of smart ripostes like the Ford Foundation’s landmark “A Time to Choose” report — a well-thumbed copy of which adorns my bookshelf. Since then, the cause of energy efficiency has rung up one triumph after another: refrigerators have tripled in thermodynamic efficiency, energy-guzzling incandescent bulbs have been booted out of commercial buildings, and developers of trophy properties compete to rack up LEED points denoting low-energy design and operation.
Yet it’s difficult to see that these achievements have had any effect on slowing the growth in energy use. U.S. electricity consumption in 2008 was double that of 1975, and overall energy consumption was up by 38 percent. True, during this time U.S. population grew by 40 percent, but we also outsourced much of our manufacturing to Asia. In any case, efficiency, the assertedly immense resource that lay untapped in U.S. basements, garages, and offices, was supposed to slash per capita energy use, not just keep it from rising. Why hasn’t it? And what does that say for energy and climate policy?
A short form of the Jevons paradox, and a good entry point for discussing it, is the “rebound effect” — the tendency to employ more of something when efficiency has effectively cut its cost. The rebound effect is a staple of transportation analysis, in two separate forms. One is the rebound in gallons of gas consumed when fuel-efficiency standards have reduced the fuel cost to drive a mile. The other is the rebound from the reduction in car trips after imposition of a road toll, now that the drop in traffic has made it possible to cover the same ground in less time.
Rebound effect one turns out to be small. As UC-Irvine economics professor Ken Small has shown, no more than 20 percent of the gasoline savings from improved engine efficiency have been lost to the tendency to drive more miles — and much less in the short term. Rebound effect two is more significant and becoming more so, as time increasingly trumps money in the decision-making of drivers, at least better-off ones.
Rebound effects, then, vary in magnitude from one sector to another. They can be tricky to analyze, as Owen unwittingly demonstrated in an ill-considered 2009 Wall Street Journal op-ed criticizing congestion pricing, “How traffic jams help the environment.” He wrote:
If reducing [congestion via a toll] merely makes life easier for those who drive, then the improved traffic flow can actually increase the environmental damage done by cars, by raising overall traffic volume, encouraging sprawl and long car commutes.
Not so, as I wrote in “Paradox, schmaradox. Congestion pricing works”:
When the reduction in traffic is caused by a congestion charge, life is not just easier for those who continue driving but more costly as well. Yes, there’s a seesaw between price effects and time effects, but setting the congestion price at the right point will rebalance the system toward less driving, without harming the city’s economy.
More importantly, as Owen points out in his New Yorker piece, a narrow “bottom up” view — one that considers people’s decision-making in isolated realms of activity one-by-one — tends to miss broader rebound effects. On the face of it, doubling the efficiency of clothes washers and dryers shouldn’t cause the amount of laundering to rise more than slightly. But consider: 30 years ago, an urban family of four would have used the washer-dryer in the basement or at the laundromat, forcing it to “conserve” drying to save not just quarters but time traipsing back and forth. Since then, however, efficiency gains have enabled manufacturers to make washer-dryers in apartment sizes. We own one, and find ourselves using it for “spot” situations — emergencies that aren’t really emergencies, small loads for the item we “need” for tomorrow — that add more than a little to our total usage. And who’s to say that the advent of cheap and rapid laundering hasn’t contributed to the long-term rise in fashion-consumption, with all it implies for increased energy use through more manufacturing, freight hauling, retailing, and advertising?
Owen offers his own big example. Interestingly, it’s not computers or other electronic devices. It’s cooling. In an entertaining and all-too-brief romp through a half-century of changing mores, he traces the evolution of refrigeration and its “fraternal twin,” air conditioning, from rare, seldom-used luxuries then, to ubiquitous, always-on devices today:
My parents’ [first fridge] had a tiny, uninsulated freezer compartment, which seldom contained much more than a few aluminum ice trays and a burrow-like mantle of frost … The recently remodeled kitchen of a friend of mine contains an enormous side-by-side refrigerator, an enormous side-by-side freezer, and a drawer-like under-counter mini-fridge for beverages. And the trend has not been confined to households. As the ability to efficiently and inexpensively chill things has grown, so have opportunities to buy chilled things — a potent positive-feedback loop. Gas stations now often have almost as much refrigerated shelf space as the grocery stores of my early childhood; even mediocre hotel rooms usually come with their own small fridge (which, typically, either is empty or — if it’s a minibar — contains mainly things that don’t need to be kept cold), in addition to an icemaker and a refrigerated vending machine down the hall.
Air conditioning has a similar arc, ending with Owen’s observation that “access to cooled air is self-reinforcing: to someone who works in an air-conditioned office, an un-air-conditioned house quickly becomes intolerable, and vice versa.”
If Owen has a summation, it’s this:
All such increases in energy-consuming activity [driven by increased efficiency] can be considered manifestations of the Jevons paradox. Teasing out the precise contribution of a particular efficiency improvement isn’t just difficult, however; it may be impossible, because the endlessly ramifying network of interconnections is too complex to yield readily to empirical, mathematics-based analysis. [Emphasis mine.]
Defenders of efficiency will call “endlessly ramifying network” a cop-out. I’d say the burden is on them to prove otherwise. Based on the aggregate energy data mentioned earlier, efficiency advocates have been winning the micro battles but losing the macro war. Through engineering brilliance and concerted political and regulatory advocacy, we have increased energy-efficiency in the small while the society around us has grown monstrously energy-inefficient and cancelled out those gains. Two steps forward, two steps back.
I wrote something roughly similar five years ago in a broadside against my old colleague, Amory Lovins:
[T]hough Amory has been evangelizing “the soft path” for thirty years, his handful of glittering successes have only evoked limited emulation. Why? Because after the price shocks of the 1970s, energy became, and is still, too darn cheap. It’s a law of nature, I’d say, or at least of Economics 101: inexpensive anything will never be conserved. So long as energy is cheap, Amory’s magnificent exceptions will remain just that. Thousands of highly-focused advocacy groups will break their hearts trying to fix the thousands of ingrained practices that add up to energy over-consumption, from tax-deductible mortgages and always-on electronics to anti-solar zoning codes and un-bikeable streets. And all the while, new ways to use energy will arise, overwhelming whatever hard-won reductions these Sisyphean efforts achieve.
I wrote that a day or two after inviting Lovins to endorse putting carbon or other fuel taxes front-and-center in energy advocacy. He declined, insisting that “technical efficiency” could be increased many-fold without taxing energy to raise its price. Of course it has, can, and will. But is technical efficiency enough? Owen asks us to consider whether a strategy centered on technical and regulatory measures to boost energy efficiency may be inherently unsuited for the herculean task of keeping coal and other fossil fuels safely locked in the ground.
I said earlier that Owen offers an escape from the Jevons paradox, and he does: “capping emissions or putting a price on carbon or increasing energy taxes.” It’s hardly a clarion call, and it’s not the straight carbon taxers’ line. But it’s a lifeline.
The veteran English economist Len Brookes told Owen:
When we talk about increasing energy efficiency, what we’re really talking about is increasing the productivity of energy. And, if you increase the productivity of anything, you have the effect of reducing its implicit price, because you get more return for the same money — which means the demand goes up.
The antidote to the Jevon paradox, then, is energy taxes. We can thank Owen not only for raising a critical, central question about energy efficiency, with potential ramifications for energy and climate policy, but for giving us a brief — an eloquent and powerful one — for a carbon tax.
Author’s present-day (Feb. 22, 2024) note: I overdid it somewhat in belittling energy efficiency’s impacts on U.S. energy use in that 2010 Grist post. Indeed, in posts here in 2016 and again in 2020 I quantified and enthused over improved EE’s role in stabilizing electricity demand and slashing that sector’s carbon emissions.
Streetsblog USA today published my essay, Get the Facts About ‘Car Bloat’ and Pollution. I’ve cross-posted it here to allow comments.
— C.K., Feb. 1, 2024
The increasing size of passenger vehicles has been catastrophic for road safety, traffic congestion, climate viability, and household budgets. Compared to sedans, brawnier sport utility vehicles and pickup trucks are far more likely to kill other road users, to clog urban streets and suburban roads, to guzzle fuel and emit particulates and carbon, and to keep their owners on a treadmill of car payments and pain at the pump.
Not only that, SUVs and pickups — collectively designated “light trucks” by regulators (“deregulators” is more apt) — may even engender more driving by owners seduced by their roominess, faux road-worthiness and illusion of indomitability. All 12 of the dozen models most preferred by gasoline “superusers” — drivers in the top decile of U.S. gasoline consumption — are SUVs or pickups, with the Chevy Silverado and Ford F150 topping the list.
As I wrote earlier this week, superusers manage the bizarre feat of averaging 40,000 miles a year* — a quantity of driving that consumes 13 percent of their owners’ waking hours — while burning 22 percent more fuel per mile than other U.S. drivers’ rides. Ivan Illich was right.
Just after Thanksgiving, The Guardian added its two cents with a story headlined, “Motor emissions could have fallen over 30 percent without SUV trends, report says.” Translated: Global CO2 emissions from passenger vehicles would have shrunk by nearly one-third if not for vehicle upsizing to SUVs and pickups.
Startling and damning, right? But it’s a vast overstatement: The true 2010-2022 “lost reduction” in passenger vehicles’ carbon emissions due to the growing share of big trucks worldwide was just 6 percent — five times less than the reported 30 percent.
Wait, am I cutting SUVs a break on their carbon spewing? Not at all. To deal effectively with climate we need to be clear about what’s destroying it.
The false 30-percent figure — which you’ll soon see wasn’t the fault of the Guardian — has begun worming its way into energy and climate discourse. This is unfortunate, since it serves to reinforce emphasis on the types of vehicles being made, sold and driven, when American motorists’ carbon profligacy is the inevitable result of our oversupply of pavement and our bias against full-cost pricing of driving.
The Global Fuel Economy Initiative is a think tank funded by the European Commission, the Global Environment Facility, the UN Environment Programme and the FIA Foundation. Notwithstanding the fact that FIA is the “philanthropic arm” of the Fédération Internationale de l’Automobile (aka Formula One auto racing), GFEI produces high-caliber analysis and research.
GFEI’s November 2023 report, “Trends in the Global Vehicle Fleet 2023: Managing the SUV Shift and the EV Transition,” meticulously examined passenger-vehicle fuel consumption over the 12-year period, 2010 to 2022, and found that average fuel use (and, hence, per-mile carbon emissions) dropped by an average rate of 1.5 percent per year.
If not for more and heavier SUVs, the average annual decrease in emissions, according to the report, would have been around 1.95 percent, a rate that is 30 percent greater than the actual decline rate.
A 1.5-percent annual decrease in fuel intake per mile calculates to a total 16.6-percent total drop during the period. (See math box at the bottom of this post for the arithmetic.) Had the annual decrease been 1.95 percent, its 12-year drop would have been 21.5 percent. The gap between those two drops means that bigger car size worsened fuel economy 6 percent more than if car size had remained the same.
Accordingly, the headline in the story should have been, “Motor Emissions Could Have Fallen 6 Percent More Without SUVs, Report Says,” but that’s not exactly eyeball-grabbing. Don’t blame Guardian reporter Helena Horton, however. She wrote her story off of GFEI’s press release, which (incorrectly) trumpeted a lost 30-percent gain in fuel economy due to “the SUV trend.”
After being contacted by me, GFEI’s study director immediately acknowledged his comms team’s error and labored mightily to get The Guardian to run a full correction. As you can tell from the side-by-side story headlines above, he was only partly successful.
The image on the left shows the original Nov. 24 Guardian headline and lede, retrieved via the Web’s Wayback Machine. The image on the right shows the corrected headline and lede since Dec. 18. The alterations are subtle nearly to the point of invisibility. The new “30 percent more” is confusing (30 percent more than what?), and the subhead is unaltered and thus plain wrong to say that the fall in emissions “would have been far more” than it was, had vehicle sizes stayed the same. No, the fall in emissions would have been 6 percent more — not exactly “far more.”
The Guardian’s erroneous “30-percent-less” headline, though not its fault, has the makings of a honey trap. New York Times climate columnist David Wallace-Wells fell for it on Twitter, along with esteemed climate pundit David Roberts. The Colorado-based climate think tank RMI got ensnared as well, as did our own Kea Wilson at Streetsblog USA. (RMI and Streetsblog quickly corrected their flubs after I emailed.) Consider this post an antidote to future repetitions, or, at least, a means to correct them.
It’s also worth touching on the innumeracy required to imagine that auto upsizing — “car bloat” in the evocative phrase popularized by journalist David Zipper — as loathsome as it is, stood in the way of a 30-percent gain in world-average auto fuel economy. The typical difference between sedan and “light truck” mpg is only around 20 percent (though greater in the U.S., with our supersized SUVs and pickups), so even a complete global switchover from sedans to light trucks would have put only a 20-percent dent in fuel economy.
Of course, the actual carbon damage due to vehicle SUV-ification over the 12 years studied has been far less — just 6 percent as we saw above — on account of longer vehicle turnover times. This should have been readily apparent to The Guardian reporter as well as the journalists and advocates who repeated the error on social media or websites. Errant quantification is hardly journalism’s number one albatross — free-falling revenues and shrinking newsrooms are orders of magnitude more consequential — but it lurks under the surface.
With greater numeracy, it might be easier for journalists, advocates and policymakers to grasp that vehicle electrification and shrinkage alone aren’t going to cut auto emissions at the rate needed.
Driving too must shrink. Collectively, road pricing, congestion pricing, curb pricing, carbon pricing, better transit and livable streets are almost certainly at least as important for climate as improved miles per gallon.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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?
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.
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.”
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.
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.
The talented data analysts at Rhodium Corp. reported this week that U.S. emissions of greenhouse gases fell nearly two percent last year, even as national economic output rose by 2.4%. This was good news, further evidence of “decoupling” emissions from economic activity. But it was also bad news because, says Rhodium, the 1.9% drop in GHG’s was woefully short of the 6.9% annual decrease required from now to 2030 to meet our Paris target of a 50-52% reduction in GHG emissions below 2005 levels.
Here we examine the locus of the good news: the 8% drop in electricity generation in 2023 vs. 2022 that enabled the 2% drop in overall emissions despite rises in emissions from transportation and some other sectors.
(Note: Rhodium’s report couches emissions as GHG’s, whereas we calculate and speak in terms of CO2; a request to Rhodium to express their data as CO2 wasn’t answered.)
The chart at left seems to reinforce the customary line that the leading driver of reduced U.S. carbon emissions is the switch to gas-fired power generation from coal-fired electricity. Indeed, the 101 TWh increase in gas-fired kilowatt-hours accounted numerically for three-quarters of the 134 TWh drop in coal, indicating the close (if inverse) link between the two. Since modern “combined cycle” gas-burning plants emit a whopping 60% less CO2 per kWh than coal-burners, substituting the one for the other is a climate win, even allowing for the greenhouse impacts of methane released in gas drilling and transmission.
What’s missing from this narrative is the role of energy efficiency in suppressing demand for electricity, which we depict in the graph’s two right-most bars and in the callout graph below, at right.
The first bar, showing a gain of 47 TWh labeled as Efficiency, denotes the reduction in total U.S. electricity generation over the first 9 months of 2023 vs. the year-earlier 9-month total. That contraction enabled U.S. grids to cut back on fossil-fuel generation. Without it, either the reduction in coal-fired electricity would have been less than the 134 TWh shown, or the increase in gas-fired electricity would have had to be greater than the actual 101 TWh, or a combination of the two. (The other sources — nuclear, hydro, wind and solar — already produce at their maximum capability.) Power-sector emissions would have been greater in either case.
But the efficiency story doesn’t end there. U.S. economic output wasn’t flat in 2023, it grew by 2.4% over 2022 (per preliminary figures reported by Rhodium). In earlier periods of U.S. history, that economic growth would have required greater electricity production. For most of the last century, the ratio averaged around 2-to-1, i.e., use of electricity grew twice as fast as GDP. From 1975 to around 2005, the relationship was around 1-to-1. Since 2005, in a profound development that few predicted (and which few have acknowledged, other than CTC), U.S. electricity usage has been virtually flat, even as economic activity has risen by more than 40 percent.
I’ve used a 1-to-1 relationship for this post, i.e., I’ve assumed that if not for increased energy efficiency, the 2.4% year-on-year growth in U.S. economic activity would have required a 2.4% increase in electricity production. Numerically, nearly 80 additional TWh would have been required (calculated as 2.4% of 2022 9-month U.S. electricity production, including rooftop solar, of 3,283,000 TWh). Adding that amount to the actual decrease in electricity yields the true efficiency figure of 126 TWh shown in the right-most bar.
The biggest enabler of the 2022 drop in U.S. coal-fired electricity generation, then, wasn’t the 101 TWh increase in power production from natural gas, though that played a big part. It certainly wasn’t solar, which grew by nearly 15%, a hefty rise, but by just 27 TWh in absolute terms. Nor was it the U.S. wind sector, which actually contracted in the first nine months of the year (see first chart, above). It was the increase in the efficiency with which electricity supports economic activity, which enabled a 126 TWh drop in electricity use vis-a-vis the historical 1-to-1 relationship between use of electricity and GDP.
That’s not the standard spin. Rhodium reports that “coal is playing less and less of a role on the grid, while both natural gas and renewable generators are filling the gap.” True, but it leaves out the vital — I would say central — role played by energy efficiency in constraining U.S. electricity demand so that the increase in gas-burning could be held to 101 TWh.
For sheer distortion it’s hard to top Canary Media’s take, shown at left, that “the buildout of renewable energy helped to curb America’s greenhouse gas emissions by 1.9% in 2023.” While that’s true, the gain in renewable power output was a sideshow to electricity efficiency. Indeed, netting the 27 TWh increase in solar output by the combined 23 TWh decrease in hydro and wind generation leaves next to nothing in the way of net renewables growth.
Remember the adage about victory having a thousand fathers while defeat is an orphan? In climate circles and energy policy, last year’s modest success in reducing emissions has multiple parents: more gas-burning, more solar arrays, more renewables. Yet the true climate guardian n 2023 and prior years — increased efficiency in electricity usage — goes unremarked. This inattention is mirrored in policy. The Inflation Reduction Act subsidizes everything from electric cars and heat pumps to battery storage and manufacture of wind turbines and solar cells. It doesn’t, for the most part, subsidize ways to use energy more efficiently.
That’s not deliberate, it’s inherent in the nature of energy efficiency, savings and conservation: they involve ways of doing more with less, and they come in a million guises. They can’t be subsidized, but they can be rewarded, by taxing carbon emissions.
As we’ve been saying for decades: Taxes on fossil fuels, levied “upstream” at mines, wells and import docks, raise the value of every personal, corporate and collective action to reduce unnecessary use of energy. There’s no way around taxing carbon.
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.
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.
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.”
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.
Israel’s bombardment of Gaza in response to Hamas’ October assault on Jewish civilians is prompting much soul-searching. One reappraisal that caught my eye was Who’s a ‘Colonizer’? How an Old Word Became a New Weapon, which ran earlier this month in The New York Times.
The piece, by veteran NY Times correspondent Roger Cohen, centers on two opposing ideas — clashes, if you will. One, particular to the current war, concerns the charge that Israel is an outpost of “settler colonialism” and the counterclaim that the Jewish state, “far from being colonialist,” in Cohen’s words, “is a diverse nation largely formed by a gathering-in of the persecuted.” The other is what Cohen calls “a fundamental reframing” of history away from an East-West conflict canonized in the American and French revolutions, toward a North-South struggle “focused on the millions of lives lost to the slave trade and the genocide of the native American peoples.”
Cohen’s grappling with colonialism and colonization took me back to 2018 and the image shown at left. Outside a “Climate Action Summit” convened in San Francisco by Jerry Brown toward the end of his fourth and final term as governor of California, activists from the Climate Justice Alliance hoisted a banner proclaiming “Carbon Pricing Is Colonialism.”
To me, the message was shocking but not surprising.
Shocking, in equating carbon pricing — an admittedly technocratic but singularly powerful policy tool for cutting carbon emissions and, thus, aiding vulnerable nations and communities considered most gravely threatened by climate chaos — with the centuries-long colonial project that subjugated and plundered the Global South to benefit the colonizing North, and whose psychological and financial toll endures.
Unsurprising, in light of the climate-justice movement’s embrace of intersectionality, and with it, conflation of carbon pricing with predatory capitalism that, over centuries, bestowed riches on Europeans and North Americans by stealing the lands of Indigenous people, the labor of people of African descent, and the mineral resources of the entire Global South.
Wikipedia usefully defines colonialism as “a practice by which one group of people, social construct, or nation state controls, directs, or imposes taxes or tribute on other people or areas, often by establishing colonies, generally for strategic and economic advancement of the colonizing group or construct.”
Notwithstanding Wiki’s disclaimer in the same paragraph that there’s “no clear definition” of colonialism, this one is distinct and, with its reference to taxes, pertinent.
Suppose carbon emissions were taxed in every country. Would that entail colonizing of poor nations by the rich? It could, but only if the carbon-tax wealth — the revenue generated by the tax on carbon emissions — was siphoned off by the rich countries.
There is no carbon-taxing or pricing system under which that would take place.
Keep in mind that carbon taxing is a charge on carbon emissions. If Country A exports fossil fuels to Country B, the carbon tax arises when the fuels are burned, which takes place in Country B. The tax is imposed in and collected by Country B, and the revenues adhere to Country B.
What about Country A? Its carbon tax applies to fuels burned there — to power vehicles, to generate electricity, to run factories, to heat buildings, and, yes, to operate the machinery that extracts the fossil fuels from the ground and brings them to docks for export. Each of those combustion processes generates carbon emissions in Country A which will be taxed by Country A and whose revenues will stay in Country A.
There are genuine debates to be had as to how Country A, the exporter, will spend its revenues, just as there are or should be debates in Country B concerning disposition of its carbon revenues. Nevertheless, under no conceivable carbon-pricing regime will revenues from Country A’s carbon tax flow to Country B.
Where in this picture is colonialism?
Is it in the prospect that taxes on carbon emissions in Country B and other importing countries will cut demand for Country A’s fuel exports . . . which will lower demand for Country A’s fuels and depress its commerce in extracting and exporting fossil fuels? No. This lowering of demand is part of the intent of taxing carbon — “a feature, not a bug,” per the expression.
Shrinking global demand for carbon fuels and thereby reducing Country A’s carbon commerce isn’t colonialism. It’s not a coercive transfer of wealth or imposition of tribute. Rather, it’s part of how the world cuts emissions and protects the climate, accomplished entirely by and under the control of Country A.
Carbon offsets are accounting devices to enable “polluters,” who may be countries, companies or individuals such as air travelers, to avoid having to reduce their own emissions, by purchasing offsets or “carbon credits” that ostensibly cut emissions elsewhere, e.g., by planting trees or destroying greenhouse chemicals like Freon. Plagued from the start by the rap that they are little more than get-out-of-jail-free cards for the Global North, and further undercut by repeated evidence of fraud, carbon offsets have not only hindered effective climate action but have also ended up sullying the cause of carbon pricing.
The Carbon Tax Center’s website section on carbon offsets recounts their history and controversy. Suffice it to say that offsets’ ties to various carbon cap-and-trade programs such as the European Union’s Emissions Trading System and California’s AB-32 carbon cap-and-trade program have led climate-justice campaigners to condemn not just offsets or carbon cap-and-trade but any proposed or actual form of carbon pricing — even straight-up carbon taxing with no offsets whatsoever.
Let’s be clear that the developed countries owe an immense debt to the Global South for exhausting most of our planet’s carbon budget: trillions for climate adaptation; massive financing for clean-energy infrastructure; and large-scale technology transfer. Sweeping debt forgiveness would help as well. These obligations are, or should be, compulsory. But they have nothing to do with carbon pricing. They certainly won’t be exacerbated by taxing carbon emissions whether in the Global South or North. Rather, the emission reductions that carbon pricing will spark will buy extra time for former colonies to manage, adjust and thrive as the payments, financing and technology ramp up.
We conclude this with its headline. Carbon pricing is utterly and intrinsically anti-colonial. Nations levy their own carbon price and collect the revenues, which they allocate or invest as they see fit.
It’s not perfect. No policy is. And it’s not a silver bullet. When it comes to protecting and restoring climate, there’s no such thing.
But carbon taxing promises huge reductions in carbon emissions — 30 percent or better within ten years if ramped up steadily, in the case of the United States. And it’s complementary with virtually every other carbon-cutting action, be it regulatory, investment, or even clean-energy subsidization, to go far beyond that 30 percent mark. Moreover, pathways abound for allocating, or, our favorite approach, dividending the revenues to keep whole the vast majority of the most-vulnerable households
Carbon pricing is a policy path any nation can undertake on its own and manage as it chooses. If that’s not the essence of political autonomy, what is?
Environmental justice misgivings about carbon pricing, and antidotes to same, are discussed at length on our Carbon Pricing and Environmental Justice page.