A new study published by legendary climate scientist James Hansen and a global team of researchers has found that the planet might breach the 1.5 degrees Celsius (2.7 degrees Fahrenheit) warming target by the end of the decade and surpass the 2 degrees C target by 2050.
The new research adds to the urgency of conversations about climate change, just weeks before leaders all over the world are expected to travel to Dubai to meet for the United Nation’s annual climate change conference, COP28.
The group’s findings were published in the journal Oxford Open Climate Change on Thursday and garnered various responses from the climate community. For context, it has taken the world more than a century to warm a little more than 1 degree C, according to NASA.
The 1.5 degrees C target was initially established as a target in Paris in 2015 after a push by developing nations at a previous COP, to bring attention to the fact that global warming does not impact all nations equally.
“The 1.5-degree limit is deader than a doornail. And the 2-degree limit can be rescued only with the help of purposeful actions to affect Earth’s energy balance,” he said in a webinar.
The study’s conclusions are provocative because its estimate of a common climate metric, called climate sensitivity, is on the higher end. The metric is a calculation of how many degrees the planet would warm by if the amount of carbon dioxide was doubled from pre-industrial times — an amount that is quickly approaching.
The conclusions of Hansen and others are not completely out of the realm of possibility though, according to Jim Kinter, a professor of climate dynamics at George Mason University in Virginia. “There’s a range of values that we see coming from different models,” said Kinter. “And his value is at the high end or above any of the models that we’ve seen before.”
Hansen and his team’s estimate outpaces other figures, such as the one provided by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, a United Nations body dedicated to climate science. Researchers point to a few different factors, including the loss of aerosols, tiny particles of pollution which slightly cooled the planet and protected it from further warming. Additionally, the imbalance of more energy from the sun being trapped by greenhouse gasses, like carbon dioxide, has thrown off the equilibrium of energy absorbed and reflected by the planet. The earth is now absorbing more energy from the sun which, they claim, is increasing the rate that the planet warms up.
Another prominent climate scientist, Michael E. Mann, professor of earth and environmental science at Pennsylvania State University, disputed some of the conclusions by Hansen and other researchers. In a blog post, he called their results “very much out of the mainstream.” While Hansen’s research shows that there’s a certain amount of warming locked in even after we stop emitting carbon dioxide, Mann refutes this characterization.
One reason so many researchers disagree on the issue of when and by how much the planet will warm is because they are working off of computer models that estimate based on the data sets provided. But scientists still don’t know how every part of our planet works.
“The Earth system is a very complicated system,” said Kinter. Those moving parts, the ocean, the atmosphere, and land, all work in tandem but since scientists don’t know exactly how everything works down to the minutiae they rely on models to fill in the gaps.
Complicating the matter even more is the presence of the phenomenon known as El Niño, which occurs every few years and causes temperatures to increase further.
El Niño, climate change, and extreme heat
El Niño is a natural weather phenomenon that fuels above-average global heat and more intense natural disasters in parts of the world. It is characterized by warmer than normal sea-surface temperatures in the eastern Pacific Ocean. The hottest years on record tend to happen during El Niño.
The planet’s weather over the past three years has been dominated by El Niño’s opposite extreme, La Niña, which has had a cooling effect on the globe. Even so, the past eight years were the hottest in recorded history, the result of the warming effects of climate change.
Now, in conjunction with accelerating climate change, El Niño means a wide array of exacerbated hazardsmay be coming down the pike. El Niño’s impacts differ by region, but can range from extreme rainfall to severe drought and increased wildfire risk.
Kinter said that because of this we might temporarily exceed the 1.5 degrees target in the near future — either next year or the following year — but it will come back down below that. The 1.5 degrees C target that the paper and most climate scientists discuss is an average, based on what the temperature is over 30 years.
Hansen’s paper also includes policy recommendations, an unusual inclusion in most climate science papers, such as increased global cooperation, a carbon tax, and an investment in solar geoengineering, or purposefully injecting the same components from the air pollution that used to be there back into the atmosphere to cool the planet. The last point is the most contentious, as scientists disagree severely on if solar geoengineering should even be allowed as a research topic. His inclusion of those recommendations, he said, were to draw attention to the causes and urgency of the issue, as well as to motivate young people to take action.
“Young people need to understand what they are being handed by the older generation,” said Hansen. “They’re going to actually have to affect the politics so that the special interests do not control — especially the fossil fuel industry — does not control the future.”
According to a new report from the United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP), climate adaptation progress is slowing when it should be speeding up in order to catch up with the increasing impacts and risks of climate change.
The report, “Underfinanced. Underprepared. Inadequate investment and planning on climate adaptation leaves world exposed,” released before the UN COP28 Climate Change Conference later this month in Dubai, found that the adaptation finance requirements of developing countries are much larger — 10 to 18 times — than the actual amount of public finance.
“Today’s Adaptation Gap Report shows a growing divide between need and action when it comes to protecting people from climate extremes. Action to protect people and nature is more pressing than ever. Lives and livelihoods are being lost and destroyed, with the vulnerable suffering the most,” said UN Secretary-General António Guterres in his message on the report.
Due to the growing needs for adaptation financing, along with inadequate flow, currently the adaptation gap is from $194 to $366 billion annually, a press release from the UN said. Meanwhile, planning and implementation for adaptation seem to be leveling off. Adaptation failure has huge implications for loss and damage, especially for the most vulnerable.
“In 2023, climate change yet again became more disruptive and deadly: temperature records toppled, while storms, floods, heatwaves and wildfires caused devastation,” said Inger Andersen, UNEP’s executive director, in the press release. “These intensifying impacts tell us that the world must urgently cut greenhouse gas emissions and increase adaptation efforts to protect vulnerable populations. Neither is happening.”
The updated report found that more funds are required for adaptation in developing countries this decade, from $215 billion to $387 billion.
“Even if the international community were to stop emitting all greenhouse gases today, climate disruption would take decades to dissipate,” Andersen said in the press release. “So, I urge policymakers to take heed of the Adaptation Gap Report, step up finance and make COP28 the moment that the world committed fully to insulating low-income countries and disadvantaged groups from damaging climate impacts.”
Adaptation costs in developing nations are projected to rise substantially by mid-century. However, as needs grow, financing by public multilateral and bilateral sources in 2021 decreased by 15 percent to $21 billion. The ebb in financing occurred despite COP26 pledges of around $40 billion in adaptation finance each year by 2025.
Five of six countries now have at least one adaptation planning device, but progress toward reaching complete global coverage has slowed, and the amount of adaptation actions supported by international climate funds stalled in the past decade.
“Developed countries must present a clear roadmap to double adaptation finance as promised – prioritizing grants over loans – as a first step towards devoting half of all climate finance to adaptation. Multilateral Development Banks should also allocate at least fifty percent of climate finance to adaptation, and change their business models to mobilize far more private finance to protect communities from climate extremes,” Guterres said in his message.
Resilience can be enhanced by ambitious adaptation and forestall loss and damage, the press release said. This is especially important for disadvantaged groups and low-income countries.
Studies show that for each billion invested in coastal flooding adaptation, economic damages are reduced by $14 billion. Also, $16 billion in annual agricultural investment would protect around 78 million people from chronic hunger or starvation due to climate impacts.
But the adaptation finance gap can’t be closed significantly by either a potential New Collective Quantified Goal for 2030 or the doubling of the 2019 flow of international finance.
“[A]daptation plans must be transformed into investment plans, with new collaborative models that bring together governments, funders, development partners and civil society. The Adaptation Pipeline Accelerator partnerships, announced at the September United Nations Climate Ambition Summit, help show the way. By 2025, every vulnerable developing nation should have the support they need to develop and implement adaptation investment plans,” Guterres said in the message.
The report includes seven ways financing can be increased, including through private and international sector finance and domestic expenditure. Other strategies include implementing Article 2.1(c) of the Paris Agreement regarding the shifting of finance flows toward climate resilient and low-carbon development.
The new fund for loss and damage will be an important resource as well, but it will need to use more innovative mechanisms for finance in order to achieve the needed investment scale.
“Fossil fuel barons and their enablers have helped create this mess; they must support those suffering as a result. I call on governments to tax the windfall profits of the fossil fuel industry, and devote some of those funds to countries suffering loss and damage from the climate crisis,” Guterres said in the message. “We are in an adaptation emergency. We must act like it. And take steps to close the adaptation gap, now.”
According to new research published Thursday, the world will soon pass the 1.5°C target that was set to limit the worst impacts of climate change.
The 2015 Paris Agreement set a goal to limit global warming to at most 2°C above pre-industrial levels. But after the agreement went into effect in 2016, more experts expressed the need to keep the limit to 1.5°C, which was also referenced in the accord.
Ahead of the 2023 United Nations Climate Change Conference (COP28) taking place this month, scientists from Columbia University, NASA, and other institutions around the world have published research warning that with the current rate greenhouse gas emissions and existing policies and actions, global warming will pass the 1.5°C target before 2030, and warming will reach 2°C before 2050.
“The 1.5°C limit is deader than a doornail,” James Hansen, study co-author and director of climate science, awareness and solutions at Columbia University’s Earth Institute, said in a press conference. “The 2-degree limit is also dead, unless we take purposeful actions to reduce Earth’s energy imbalance.”
Hansen became a leading climate scientist in the 1980s, when we was among the first scientists to warn about greenhouse gases and their climate impacts during a Senate hearing on the greenhouse effect, E&E News reported.
Now, Hansen joins several other scientists from around the world in publishing research on climate sensitivity. In their study, published in the journal Oxford Open Climate Change, they found time is running out to limit warming and prevent the worst impacts of climate change.
Global warming has already reached 1.2°C above pre-industrial levels, as Reuters reported.
According to the study, scientists have previously underestimated how carbon dioxide concentration would impact climate sensitivity, which can be challenging to track because of feedback loops. Further, the authors noted that while reducing human-made aerosol pollution since 2010 improves air quality and is good for human health, the aerosol particles reflect solar radiation and were creating a cooling effect.
“We’ve made a Faustian bargain here,” Hansen said in a statement. “And the first Faustian payment is now due, because the reduction in aerosols is accelerating global warming.”
The study findings have been controversial. Michael Mann, a climate scientist at the University of Pennsylvania, said in a blog post that the figures in the study are “very much out of the mainstream,” noting that “the standard is high when you’re challenging the prevailing scientific understanding.”
Bärbel Hönisch, a paleoclimatologist and professor at Columbia University, also raised concerns over the findings. “I’d be a little more reserved, but they may well be correct — it’s a nicely written paper,” Hönisch told The Guardian. “It raises a lot of questions that will trigger a lot of research that will bring our understanding forward.”
The study recommends three rapid, required actions the world needs to take to limit emissions and warming. These actions include increasing the costs of greenhouse gas emissions while making clean energy more accessible and widespread; cooperating between countries; and reducing and reversing an energy imbalance on Earth.
“This decade may be our last chance to develop the knowledge, technical capability, and political will for actions needed to save global coastal regions from long-term inundation,” the study authors concluded.
The threat of extinction and endangerment of species is accelerated by human activity like deforestation, hunting and pollution, as well as climate change and its various impacts like extreme weather and warming temperatures. A species’ importance to an ecosystem often isn’t noticed until it’s gone. When humans encroach on wild territory, we often disrupt the delicate food chains that exist in wild ecosystems. Removing a source of vegetation or an apex species might have wide ripples, impacting countless other animal populations. Wildlife reintroduction is a process by which native species are reintroduced to areas from which their populations have dwindled or disappeared. Here are a few of the most successful reintroduction efforts throughout history.
Bighorn Sheep, John Day Fossil Beds National Monument
An iconic sight in Eastern Oregon and the American West, bighorn sheep used to roam the steep hills, cliffs, and canyons of John Day Fossil Beds National Monument. After overhunting and diseases carried by domesticated sheep began decimating their numbers, the last wild bighorn died in the early 1900s. Their release marks the first time these sheep have populated the area in more than a century.
In 2010, the Bureau of Land Management, National Park Service, the Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife, and local ranchers and officials captured 29 sheep from the lower canyons of the John Day River — which runs nearly 300 miles in northeastern Oregon — and transported them over 100 miles before releasing them in the area. Now, visitors of the monument can once again look for their forms traversing the steep cliffs and canyons of the landscape.
Giant Tortoise, Galápagos Islands
Iniciativa Galápagos, led by the Galápagos Conservancy and the Galápagos National Park Directorate, seek to restore 11 species of giant tortoise in the Galápagos, even in areas where they had gone completely extinct. Invasive species and hunting decimated their numbers over time. Buccaneers and whalers used tortoises as a food source in the 18th and 19th centuries, and later, humans harvested them for oil. The introduction of non-native species also proved fatal, especially rats, pigs and dogs that preyed on their eggs and young, and grazing animals like cattle, donkeys and goats that destroyed parts of their habitat.
Since 1965, captive rearing programs have raised tortoises until age 5 and then released them on the islands. Since then, more than 10,000 tortoises have been raised in captivity and then released, boosting the number of individuals to about 10% of their historical population. While a low percentage, it’s a great improvement over the near-extinction numbers of the past. Saving these tortoises is vital for the Galápagos ecosystem, as they graze on plant populations and disperse seeds, and are major drivers of tourism in the region.
Black-Footed Ferrets, Badlands and Wind Cave National Parks
Once considered the rarest mammal in the world, the black-footed ferret is making a comeback. They’d been declared extinct in 1979, until, to a Wyoming rancher’s great surprise, his dog brought one of their bodies back in his jaws. They discovered a small population nearby whose numbers were dwindling due to disease — in 1987, only 18 individuals remained.
The ferrets had been greatly impacted by the near-extermination of prairie dog populations in parts of the U.S., which make up 90% of their diet. Prairie dogs were seen as pests by farmers when American prairies were being rapidly converted into farmland. After capturing the ferrets and placing them in a captive breeding program, the NPS started reintroducing them to their original habitat; first 147 in Badlands National Park between 1996-1999, then 33 in Wind Cave National Park in 2007, after which they’ve been introduced to other places. Depending on the density of prairie dogs, Wind Cave National Park can support between 40 and 60 individuals, and about 120 are currently living in Badlands.
Despite reintroduction efforts, the ferrets still remain critically endangered. Habitat fragmentation and outbreaks of plague common in prairie dog populations remain prominent threats to their populations. However, Badlands is now home to a self-sustaining population of black-footed ferrets, able to maintain their own population without the intervention of captive breeding programs.
Gray Wolves, Yellowstone National Park
Perhaps the most famous reintroduction in history, gray wolves were released back into their natural habitat in Yellowstone National Park in the late 20th century. As humans expanded westward in the 1800s, livestock came more frequently into contact with predators. Many of these predators were systematically killed by settlers, so wolves — apex predators at the top of the food chain — had less to feed on, and began eating domesticated animals instead. By the 1920s, they had been essentially eradicated from the park through hunting in an effort to protect livestock.
After their elimination, the ecosystem changed rapidly. As apex species, wolves had been essential to the ecosystem. In their absence, elk and deer populations — previously a food source for wolves — exploded and proceeded to feed heavily on aspens and other trees that once held together stream banks and housed birds. Erosion ensued, and without their avian predators, insect populations grew.
In 1974, wolves were listed as endangered under the Endangered Species Act, and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service worked with the NPS to come up with a reintroduction strategy. In 1995, 14 Canadian wolves from Alberta were reintroduced to the park, first acclimated in pens for several weeks with plentiful elk carcasses to feast on and (literally) get a taste for their new home. The reintroduction has been seen as a huge historic success for the health of both wolf populations and the Yellowstone ecosystem at large. However, it wasn’t without controversy. Some critics argue that the elk population has fallen too low due to the wolves, but current data indicates that they will ultimately continue to lead to greater biodiversity in the area. In 2022, 10 packs of wolves and 108 individuals were reported in the park.
Bald Eagles, Channel Islands National Park
Bald eagles used to nest in five islands of Channel Islands National Park, but they had all but disappeared by the 1950s. Along with trapping and shooting in the area, DDT — a dangerous pesticide — is partially responsible for their decline. The pesticide was used heavily on farms at the time and then washed into waterways, poisoning the fish that birds fed on. This led to thinner, weaker eggshells, which cracked before the baby eagles could hatch. After DDT was banned in 1972, some bald eagle populations saw a resurgence, but many still struggled.
The Montrose Settlements Restoration Program gave funding for their reintroduction in 2002, bringing eaglets from Alaska and other areas. They were reintroduced through a technique called “hacking,” wherein 8-week-old birds were kept in hack towers on Santa Cruz Island until they could fly. Between 2002 and 2006, 61 total eagles were released in the northern Channel Islands. As a keystone species, their reintroduction has been hugely impactful on the ecosystem, and has been crucial to the recovery of the endangered island fox. In 2006, the first successful bald eagle nest was found on the islands in over 50 years, and populations have been growing ever since.
This story was produced by Grist and is co-published with WBUR.
At the end of October 2017, a severe windstorm swept through the state of Maine, felling trees, knocking down power lines, and wiping out electricity for nearly half a million people. Larissa Smith, a longtime Maine resident who was living in Freeport at the time, lost power at her home for nearly three weeks.
That’s why she was surprised when, a few weeks later, she received a monthly bill from her utility company, Central Maine Power, or CMP, charging her close to $200 for electricity usage.
“I called CMP, and I’m like, ‘How are you even charging me at all?” she recalled. “I didn’t have power; I just don’t know how that’s possible.” The bill was at least $70 higher than any she had received within the past year. She called CMP’s customer service multiple times and asked them to send someone to check her electric meters. No one would help. “They just kept saying, ‘You’ve got to pay your bill, or we’ll shut off your power,’” Smith said.
She eventually paid off the bill, but her misgivings with CMP continue to this day. Smith and her partner recently installed a heat pump in their home, hoping to replace their broken oil burner with a climate-friendly technology. But after the state authorized a 49 percent increase in electric supply rates in January, driven by rising costs of natural gas, her electric bills have spiked from around $100 to $200 a month to as high as $1,000. The added financial burden has led Smith, who works in the IT sector, to take on more work to pay for home insulation and defray her electric costs.
“I don’t trust CMP,” she said, reflecting on her experiences. (CMP declined to comment on Smith’s experience, citing public utility commission policies.)
Stories like Smith’s are common in Maine. Smith is one of an estimated 297,000 customers, or around 21 percent of Maine’s population, who saw their electricity costs soar after a new billing system was introduced by the investor-owned utility in 2017. In 2020, the company was fined $10 million by the state’s Public Utilities Commission for its mishandling of billing and customer service complaints starting in 2016.
CMP and Versant, a smaller investor-owned utility, distribute 97 percent of Maine’s electricity. Over the years, CMP has come under fire for unexplained billing increases, unwarranted disconnection notices, and delays in connecting new solar projects to the power grid. Both companies have been criticized for unaffordable rates, poor customer service, and prolonged outages during storms. According to the market research company J.D. Power and Associates, CMP and Versant ranked lowest in customer satisfaction among large and midsize electric utilities, respectively, in the eastern United States last year.
Now, a historic referendum could spell the end of both utilities. On Tuesday, Question 3 on Maine’s ballot will ask voters to decide whether they want to oust CMP and Versant and replace them with a nonprofit, publicly owned utility called Pine Tree Power. The proposed utility would buy out the existing utilities’ infrastructure using revenue bonds and be governed by a board made up of elected officials and appointed experts. While a public takeover of the power grid has happened before at the local level in places like Winter Park, Florida, and Jefferson County, Washington, Maine’s referendum is the largest effort in decades, and the first-ever push for a statewide public power company.
It likely won’t be the last. As communities around the country lament soaring electricity rates, dangerous blackouts, and a frustratingly slow transition to renewables, more and more people are considering a public alternative to investor-owned utilities, which currently serve three-quarters of customers in the U.S. From San Diego to Rochester, New York; Santa Fe, New Mexico, to Ann Arbor, Michigan; and the District of Columbia to Decorah, Iowa; advocates in a growing public power movement say that energy should be reliable, affordable, and accountable to the people using it. They argue only a publicly owned and managed electric grid can rise to the challenge of climate change by providing renewable power as a public good and serving the needs and interests of the people using it, rather than shareholders.
“It certainly feels like there is a growing consensus around public ownership,” said Sarahana Shrestha, a member of the New York State Assembly. Her office is currently exploring public power for her district and is closely following Maine’s vote.
CMP and Versant have poured tens of millions of dollars into efforts to oppose the ballot measure, but their opposition isn’t the only obstacle. Even if Maine votes yes, a public power transformation won’t happen immediately. It will take years for Pine Tree Power to repair or replace the aging infrastructure affecting reliability and impeding Maine’s clean energy goals. And before getting to that point, utilities are likely to put up a potentially lengthy and costly legal fight.
As of October, a poll commissioned by the Climate and Community Project, a progressive nonprofit that supports public power, found Maine voters evenly split with 37 percent in favor of Pine Tree Power, 37 percent against, and about 25 percent undecided. Another poll by the University of New Hampshire pointed to 31 percent in favor and 56 percent against. Many residents have their fair share of unanswered questions, and some want a level of assurance and certainty on their rates under a new utility that’s impossible to provide. Whether they believe that public ownership could make affordable, clean, and reliable electricity possible — and whether taking that leap of faith is worth the potential risks — is the question that will determine Maine’s energy future.
On a cloudless, sunny day in Brunswick in September, Seth Berry, a former member of the Maine House of Representatives, sat on a picnic bench outside a local coffee shop, scrolling through old voicemails from constituents dealing with utility bills from CMP they couldn’t afford.
One woman living on Social Security in the town of Harpswell was facing a $379 monthly bill that occasionally shot up to over $700 with no explanation. “I’m kind of desperate,” she told Berry. Another woman in Harpswell was being charged $90 a month from CMP while living in a 40-square-foot apartment.
A state report last year found that ratepayers in Maine at or below the federal poverty level spend a quarter of their income on their utility bills. Disgruntled customers have taken to sharing their concerns in a Facebook group with over 2,400 members called CMP Ratepayers Unite.
Representatives from CMP and Versant told Grist that while they acknowledge customers are struggling to pay their bills, neither company controls nor profits from power supply costs, which are driven by underlying energy prices and make up close to 60 percent of an electric bill. Versant spokesperson Judy Long noted that the company launched a program last year to provide direct assistance to ratepayers in need. She also pointed to Versant’s own polling, which found that two-thirds of its customers are satisfied with their service. CMP spokesperson Jonathan Breed did not respond directly to questions about customer service, but he noted that since 2018, the company has invested $3 billion to improve Maine’s grid.
Berry wanted to help folks like his constituents in Harpswell — which is why, in 2019, he introduced a bill to create a public power authority for Maine. He cites saving people money and making energy more affordable as his main reasons. But he also knows that decarbonizing Maine’s economy, and transitioning fossil-fuel dependent sectors like transportation and heating to renewable energy, will require huge investments to expand the capacity of Maine’s power grid. That’s an effort that he described investor-owned utilities like CMP and Versant as directly impeding.
In 2017, CMP successfully lobbied state legislators to strike down a net-metering law in Maine that would have allowed households with rooftop solar to earn money for the electricity they add back into the grid. Solar developers in Maine have also accused CMP of causing unexpected delays in connecting their projects to the grid, at times requiring multimillion dollar infrastructure upgrades at the last minute. In January 2022, after a series of investigations by the state’s Public Utilities Commission, clean energy trade groups and CMP reached a settlement that would require the utility to spend $700,000 to hire more staff to speed up the interconnection process and troubleshoot further issues.
But CMP and Versant argue they’ve supported this work in other ways. Breed noted that CMP supported a different solar law that passed in 2019, which subsidized construction of new farms and led to a boom of solar projects in Maine. He said CMP quickly adapted to the influx of project applications and is on track to install 500 megawatts of solar since the bill’s passage. Long told Grist that despite being a relatively small utility, Versant has worked with developers to connect more solar and other renewable power than needed to meet current energy demand.
When Berry started looking for potential alternatives to Maine’s investor-owned utilities, he didn’t have to look far. Nine consumer-owned utilities like Kennebunk Light and Power District and Houlton Water Company already exist in the state, typically serving smaller, more rural areas. Across the country, about 2,000 consumer-owned electric utilities serve more than 49 million customers, in places including Sacramento, Long Island, Seattle, and the entire state of Nebraska, which has had public power since the 1930s.
Unlike investor-owned utilities, publicly owned utilities typically don’t operate at a profit, and they don’t pay dividends to shareholders. They’re often governed by an elected or appointed board of citizens from the region they serve, offering a model of local ownership and democratic governance that, to Berry, seemed like an obvious fit for Maine. According to the U.S. Energy Information Administration, public utility customers experience more reliable service, with an average of one hour of interrupted service each year compared to about two hours experienced by investor-owned utility customers. The average household also pays about $15 less per month using a publicly owned utility compared to an investor-owned utility. And while both public and private utilities continue to rely heavily on fossil fuels, Berry says it’s no coincidence that several public utilities, from Rock Port, Missouri, to Greensburg, Kansas, were among the first to be powered by 100 percent renewable energy.
“If we’re going to decarbonize, it’s not enough to have it be clean. It also has to be affordable. It has to be reliable. The power can’t be going out all the time like it is here,” Berry said. “All of this is possible. It’s happening right here in our state. Why don’t we all do this?”
Despite popular support, Berry’s initial bill died in committee. But the legislature commissioned an independent study released in 2020 to evaluate the economic feasibility of the proposed public power authority. In 2021, after fine-tuning the bill’s language with input from the study, utility experts, labor lawyers, and climate policymakers, Berry helped reintroduce a second version of the bill with a Republican state senator, Rick Bennett, as lead co-sponsor. The proposal passed both chambers — the first time a legislature has voted to buy out a state’s privately owned utilities.
But the victory was short-lived. Governor Janet Mills, a Democrat, vetoed the measure, calling the proposal “hastily drafted and hastily amended” and “a patchwork of political promises rather than a methodical reformation of Maine’s complicated electricity transmission and distribution systems.”
After the governor’s veto, Berry and an advocacy group formed to support his bill, Our Power, shifted their attention to collecting signatures to get a slightly tweaked version of the bill on the next ballot as a citizens initiative. (Berry decided not to run for reelection in 2022 to focus on this campaign.) The process allows legislation in Maine to bypass the legislature to head straight to voters as a referendum if the measure receives over 63,000 signatures.
Jonathan Fulford, a former state senate candidate and a co-founder of the Our Power group, says he always knew that the proposal would come down to a citizens initiative, for the simple reason that the idea was likely too radical for state policymakers.
“It’s much harder, I think, to get public officials to be willing to support something that is challenging an established structure, than to get people who are average citizens saying, ‘This isn’t working — I’m not happy about this. What the hell, let’s change it,’” he said in September, looking out at the harbor in the seaside town of Belfast.
Leaning on a grassroots network that Fulford helped assemble to support Berry’s bill, Our Power collected over 80,000 signatures from October 2021 to October 2022. “Collecting signatures was easy, but listening to people’s horror stories about their experiences with CMP was heartbreaking,” one retired teacher and activist told a local outlet. That November, public power supporters filed into the Maine secretary of state’s office, carrying cardboard boxes full of petitions. On November 30, close to 70,000 of those signatures were found valid by a state bureau. The referendum was officially headed to Mainers for a vote this fall.
This time, Fulford said, the stakes are different. Convincing voters to agree to put a question on the ballot is one matter. Actually getting them to take a leap of faith on a nonexistent public utility, and defy a multimillion dollar campaign to stick with the status quo, will be a true test for Our Power’s grassroots advocacy.
“Now you have to educate people so that when the attack ads and disinformation campaign gets going, they are resilient enough to stick with why this makes sense for them to vote for it,” Fulford said. “That’s a whole nother campaign.”
On a golden late afternoon in September, five student volunteers for Our Power gathered by a polar bear statue on the campus of Bowdoin College in Brunswick. They were being trained to speak to voters about the Pine Tree Power referendum in a nearby residential area. Lucy Hochschartner, the deputy campaign manager for Our Power, explained to the students that this wasn’t your typical canvassing, where door-knockers try to persuade voters in a one- or two-minute chat.
Instead, they were going to use an approach called deep canvassing, a strategy she described as “getting the voter to actually share their story with you and connect on values, and persuade themselves.” Those in-depth conversations, Hochschartner said as she walked along a shady street lined with colonial-style houses, are her favorite part of her job. They’re also central to Our Power’s plan to win the election.
“How do you feel when you open your utility bill every month?” she asked one resident, who leaned over their porch railing to talk to the canvassers. A large, fluffy white dog bounded to their side, holding a reindeer plushie in its mouth. Just to the left, chickens pecked behind a wooden gate.
“They’re very high. I hate CMP,” they responded, setting down some grocery bags they were just about to carry in. “Watching the ads really made me angry.”
Almost every resident the canvassers spoke to that day had seen, heard, or read the opposition campaign’s ads, which circulate on TV, radio, mailed flyers, Facebook, and other social media. “Pine Tree Power is a risk Mainers can’t afford,” one YouTube ad says.
Lucy Hochschartner, deputy campaign manager for Our Power, trains Bowdoin College students before canvassing in Brunswick, Maine. Akielly Hu / Grist
According to the Maine Ethics Commission, a state agency that tracks campaign finance, three political groups opposed to the Pine Tree Power referendum have spent about $39 million combined on advertising, personnel, polling, and other campaign activities. Maine Affordable Energy is funded almost exclusively by CMP and its parent company, Avangrid. The committee has received nearly $24 million from those utilities. Maine Energy Progress, which is exclusively funded by Enmax, the parent corporation of Versant, has received more than $16 million to date. Another committee called No Blank Checks, funded by Avangrid and CMP with more than $1.3 million, is pushing for a separate ballot question to prevent public utilities like Pine Tree Power from borrowing more than $1 billion without statewide voter approval. Combined, the utilities’ ballot opposition funding is more than 34 times higher than that of Our Power, which has received roughly $1.2 million to date from 2,200 unique donors, according to the group.
The utilities have good reason to pour money and effort into the campaign. If Pine Tree Power successfully forms, CMP and Versant, both of which operate exclusively in Maine, will likely go out of business. A June investigation by the Portland Press Herald and Floodlight News found that Maine Affordable Energy has paid three former state legislators to advocate against the referendum, including through op-eds and speaking on public forums. As of June, the committee had also paid $5 million to the Democratic political consulting firm Left Hook and $690,000 to Global Strategy Group, a polling firm that last year was contracted by Amazon to bust union organizing at a warehouse in Staten Island, New York.
Sitting in his committee’s office in downtown Portland, Willy Ritch, director of Maine Affordable Energy, said his campaign reflects “concerns we hear from voters all over the state,” through participating in forums, tabling at events and festivals, and canvassing.
By far the biggest concern, Ritch says, is the cost of buying out the utilities — a cost that will eventually be borne by ratepayers. “You just can’t get past that huge debt that Pine Tree Power would start with,” he said.
If approved, the new public utility would need to first buy all the existing poles and wires that CMP and Versant use to deliver power to millions of customers. (CMP and Versant don’t generate their own electricity, and instead purchase power supply from a wholesale regional market.) The exact price of those assets would be negotiated through a multistep court process, with the ultimate cost likely determined by a court-appointed referee. Once a price is settled, Pine Tree Power would purchase the infrastructure using utility revenue bonds, a type of loan commonly used by local governments and paid back through the utility’s future revenues.
The cost of the takeover has been heavily disputed. According to recent financial reports submitted to the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, the value of CMP’s grid infrastructure is close to $4.2 billion, and Versant’s is worth about $1.3 billion. But given legal precedents in how utility companies are bought and sold, Pine Tree Power would likely need to buy the utilities’ assets at a premium. The study commissioned by the Maine state legislature estimates that the final price will likely be 1.5 times the assets’ underlying value, citing the premium paid when Enmax acquired Versant in 2020.
That would equal an acquisition cost of roughly $8.25 billion, although that number could fluctuate as assets wear out over time, or as any upgrades or additions are made to the grid. Our Power says that the Pine Tree Power board will negotiate as low a premium as possible, while the opposition estimates a cost of $13.5 billion, a number that is featured prominently in almost all of Maine Affordable Energy’s ads. That’s because analysts contracted by CMP’s parent company estimated a later purchasing date of 2030 and a multiplier of 2 instead of 1.5.
Ursula Schryver of the American Public Power Association, an industry group representing consumer-owned utilities, says the real number will likely end up somewhere in the middle. But she emphasized that the debt will be paid off incrementally through revenues over a period of decades, not all at once. She also stressed that once the state owns the power grid, it becomes a financial asset. “It’s kind of like when you buy a house. You may spend a lot more on buying a house than when you rent it, but you own that house forever,” she said. “It’s important to look at that as an investment, versus just a cost.”
Maine Affordable Energy, on the other hand, maintains that the burden of the initial debt will fall onto consumers and result in higher electricity rates. “Somebody’s gotta pay it back, right? And the only people that can pay it back is us, the ratepayers,” Ritch said.
For some Mainers, the lack of certainty on what their rates will end up being under a new public utility is a legitimate concern. One resident in Brunswick wondered how they could know for sure that their rates would go down.
“On a fixed income, one wants to be sure that you’re getting a better deal than you’re getting at the moment,” they said.
Whether the public takeover of CMP and Versant would raise or lower customers’ bills is highly contested. The study commissioned by the Maine legislature projected that, in part due to the initial cost of buying out incumbent utilities, electric rates under a public utility could be higher in the first decade of operation. After 10 years, rates would then continuously go down, largely because public utilities have access to tax-exempt financing. Our Power activists point to another analysis conducted by an economist based in Maine, which adjusted the independent study’s model and found that ratepayer savings would begin immediately and add up to a cumulative $858 million over 30 years.
Kenneth Colburn, a former director at the Regulatory Assistance Project, an energy policy nonprofit, says he doesn’t think either estimate is credible, owing to missing factors like technological advances, energy demand management, and energy efficiency improvements. Even so, he sees a stronger financial argument for a publicly run utility because of the lack of a profit incentive.
Investor-owned utilities typically earn money by receiving a return on their capital investments. When CMP or Versant spend money to upgrade the grid or build infrastructure, the state public utilities commission authorizes them to seek a roughly 9 percent rate of return on those investments. That added cost is passed down to consumers in the form of higher rates.
Publicly owned utilities, on the other hand, don’t require a return on investment. They also don’t need to pass on profits to shareholders — “one less slice of the pie that ratepayers have to pay for,” as Colburn put it.
They can also borrow money at a lower interest rate using tax-exempt revenue bonds, putting them at a major advantage for making the investments needed to expand the capacity of Maine’s power grid, Colburn said.
To get to that point, however, Pine Tree Power would first face an uphill legal battle against the legacy utilities. Ritch argues that the ensuing litigation and bureaucratic delays involved in buying out the utilities would take up to 10 years to resolve, a timeline often repeated in the opposition’s ads. “It’d be such a huge change to our economy. There would inevitably be a lot of disagreement and fighting legal battles over that,” Ritch said.
Those legal challenges would be initiated by the investor-owned utilities themselves. The study commissioned by the Maine legislature found that a public takeover of the utilities would be fully constitutional. The bill itself sets deadlines for how long the investor-owned utilities have to negotiate a price, and Our Power expects that resolving any legal conflicts will take at most three to four years. CMP and Versant were reluctant to comment on any specific litigation plans, but there’s little doubt from both sides of the campaign that the utilities, with a combined $187 million in profits last year alone, will inevitably throw their resources behind challenging a buyout and disputing any selling price in the courts.
“If we win, they’ll sue the next day,” Fulford, the Our Power co-founder, said.
Schryver at the American Public Power Association says that the threat of litigation is a scare tactic often used by utilities during a public power takeover. “The investor-owned utilities will always say that they are going to go to court, they will fight it,” she said. “And their goal is to scare these communities into not moving forward.”
But these aren’t empty threats. Litigation was one reason why a decade-long campaign for public power in Boulder, Colorado, eventually folded in 2020. Existing utilities, Schryver says, are usually not willing sellers, and having to finance those legal battles might add unexpected costs that could ultimately fall on ratepayers. “It’s a very costly process both in terms of time and money,” she said. “Communities have to be prepared for that.”
Grist asked representatives at CMP and Versant if they plan to respond to concerns Maine residents have raised around affordability, reliability, and climate action, regardless of the outcome of the election. “We are up to the challenge of meeting service metrics that are aligned with our customers’ needs, as we have proven over the last several years, and we will continue to be mindful that our service must remain affordable for our customers,” Long at Versant said. Breed at CMP said the company “strongly supports Maine’s clean energy transition” and state climate goals and “will always look to seek a fair and balanced compromise on policies that continue to build on the environmental progress already made while not overburdening our customers, especially those who are already struggling to pay their bills.”
Ritch at Maine Affordable Energy had a more straightforward response to whether CMP and Versant will address customers’ concerns if the referendum fails. The question, he said, was a nonstarter. Increases in electric rates are largely due to spikes in energy supply costs, mostly driven by the rise in natural gas prices, he said. He pointed out that Maine already has a lot of clean energy; according to the U.S. Energy Information Administration, about three-quarters of electricity generated in Maine comes from renewable sources like hydropower and wind. And when it comes to reliability and other promises, Pine Tree Power “is totally empty of any guarantees,” Ritch said. It’s “unfair” to ask the investor-owned utilities to act on concerns raised by the Pine Tree Power campaign when Pine Tree Power hasn’t yet delivered on any promises, he said.
That’s a response that concerns Colburn, who sees this moment as critical for decarbonizing Maine’s power grid to have a shot at a livable future. He worries that the existing utilities are “dragging their feet” when it comes to climate policies. “I don’t see them aggressively approaching demand management. I don’t see them aggressively sourcing renewables. I don’t see them working hard to interconnect as much solar as they can,” Colburn said. Instead, he sees the legacy companies saying in response to clean energy policies: “Here’s obstacles. Here’s problems. Oh, boy, that’s going to cost you.”
CMP and Versant, he said, are displaying “reluctance to depart from the way we’ve always done it. And this is a time where departure is not only necessary, it’s possible.”
Walking into the fairgrounds of Common Ground, a festival held each September by the Maine Organic Farmers and Gardeners Association, feels like starting a leisurely hike. Trees on either side of a meandering dirt path were tinged with the beginnings of fall color. Couples, families, and groups of friends swarmed ahead, pausing to admire the compostable toilets set up along the way to the fair entrance.
The event is described as a “celebration of rural living,” befitting one of the country’s most rural states. Barn stalls held goats, horses, and cows of all different breeds, swatting away flies with their tails. A large dirt field showcased a horse-drawn plow tumbling up loose, dark earth. Just beyond rows of food vendors, the smell of hot vegetable oil from a french fry stand permeating the air, Our Power had set up two booths in a tent showcasing social and political advocacy groups at the weekend-long event.
In the same tent, in 2019, Fulford went around to all the groups’ tables and told them about the idea for a publicly owned utility — planting the seeds that would become Our Power. This year, he arrived before noon, warmly greeting old friends at different booths. “The grassroots organizing, in my mind, really started here,” he said.
At the Common Ground festival, Our Power set up two booths in a tent for social and political advocacy groups. Akielly Hu / Grist
Fairgoers’ opinions about the bill didn’t seem to adhere to party lines. Lee Parsons identifies as a “big Democrat,” while his parents are conservative. Supporting Pine Tree Power is one of the few things they can agree on, “which is really super, super rare,” he emphasized. His parents recently bought a $6,000 full-house generator because the power was taking so long to turn back on during outages, while Parsons and his partner have faced spiking electric bills.
“It’s really hard when nothing’s working out for the middle class, and your bill goes up 70 or 100 bucks,” he said. “It’s just ridiculous.”
But most voters at the fair told Grist they remain undecided. A significant number didn’t even know Pine Tree Power was on the ballot. While the majority seemed open to the idea, many simply wanted to learn more about the proposal — particularly how it would save money and improve reliability.
Our Power volunteers say it mostly boils down to the promise of local governance and ownership. A locally elected board, instead of a distant, overseas corporate entity, would be more accountable to the people of Maine, they told festivalgoers.
In the early afternoon, state Senator Nicole Grohoski gave a presentation on Pine Tree Power. She is one of the first people Seth Berry roped in to help with the initial legislation and campaign back in 2019. Grohoski is the type of politician who tends to immediately inspire confidence, coming off both poised and good-humored.
“Can anyone here name someone who serves on the CMP or Versant board?” she asked the 50 or so people gathered, sitting on folding chairs and squinting against the bright sun. No one raised their hand. “Do you know how to get in touch with them?” Again, no movement. “Do you think their email addresses are online? They are not. Mine, on the other hand, is, and so is my cell number,” she said. “That’s the difference between someone who’s working in the public’s best interest, who’s elected by the public, and someone that’s been put there because of their financial interests.”
CMP and Versant, meanwhile, have framed the idea of local governance as introducing runaway partisanship and politicking into the state’s energy affairs, warning that Pine Tree Power would “put our electricity in the hands of politicians,” as one campaign ad argued. And while technically a contracted grid operator, not the elected board, will be managing the day-to-day operations of the network, it’s true that local governance is no guarantee of success. Publicly owned utilities, like private utilities, have been accused of setting unaffordable rates, lobbying to derail rooftop solar, and delaying the switch to renewable power.
It’s a nuance that voters are grappling with. “It’s a big change, and it’s a big chunk of change that’s gotta be spent up front,” said one fair attendee, Missy. “I’m still a little concerned about this committee — this board.”
But later, she and her family members, Jay and Erin, agreed they’ll likely vote for the referendum on November 7. “We know CMP is shady. They’re as shady as they come,” Jay said, expressing concerns over the utility’s construction of a transmission corridor through a densely forested area. “I’m so fed up with CMP and corporate-owned electricity that I’m willing to take a jab at this,” he added.
Missy shared her own frustrations with her high electric rates under CMP. “At this point, let’s take a chance, because it can’t get any worse right now.”
“I mean, don’t say that either,” Erin said, laughing.
“Well, no, you’re right, it could,” Missy said with a chuckle. “But at least it’s a step.”
By the time the fair closed for the day, the overcast sky was just starting to darken. The goats and sheep were being tucked back into their barns, resting comfortably on mounds of damp hay. At the exit, Seth Berry and Nicole Grohoski’s dad, both wearing bright green Pine Tree Power shirts, were handing out lawn signs that said “Vote Yes on Question 3!” to anyone who would take them.
The Our Power volunteers would be back at the fair all day the next day. Some vowed to keep campaigning for as long as it took to win.
“We could win this,” Berry said earlier. “But it’s also true that it could go the other way.”
To him, public power is always going to be worth pursuing, even if the referendum fails. In the past, referendums in Maine have failed and become resurrected later as bills passed through the legislature. Some referendums, like in the case of marriage equality, lost at the polls one year and won a few years later. “You’re never done” when it comes to democracy, Berry said. “Every single policy accomplishment, every single policy loss, can be reversed.”
As cars trickled out of the grassy parking lot, headlines beaming in the twilight, a few people walked to their cars with Pine Tree Power lawn signs.
Fulford knows that even if the referendum succeeds, there’s still a long road ahead for public power in Maine. “If it passes, we have a ton of work,” he said. “The opposition will not stop. They will pour all the resources they can, in every way that they can think of, to undermine this.”
The investor-owned utilities are terrified, he says, because Pine Tree Power doesn’t just threaten the existence of CMP and Versant. It could encourage other public power campaigns, already growing in number and popularity across the country, to follow suit. In late October, Our Power and five national and state climate groups hosted a weekend-long convening for public power activists from around the country. Around 60 advocates from the likes of California, Michigan, Montana, and New York gathered to share knowledge, connect their local movements, and learn from Maine’s experience.
“This would set a precedent that could echo across the entire country,” Fulford said.
This story was produced in partnership with Osage News.
The sun wasn’t quite high in the Oklahoma sky when Nona and Wayne Roach piled into their old pickup truck, their teenage granddaughter Shaylee perched in the back. It was a hot September morning, but Osage County is known for searing summer temperatures that stretch into the fall. The heat and the hot air swirled around the two-lane road to their horses and cattle.
The Roaches have about 160 acres just outside the tiny town of Avant — population 320 — in the eastern part of Osage County, land that Wayne has worked since the mid-1970s and that his family has owned since the 1930s. He’s a former steer roper who lost two fingers trying to rope a calf on a bet in nearby Nelagoney. His grandfather gave him a calf a year, which is how he got his start.
The terrain is rock-ribbed and full of bluestem prairie, long grasses that are good for grazing livestock. The landscape is graced by bois d’arc trees, sometimes known as Osage orange or horse apple trees.
Then there are the oil wells, both active and abandoned. It’s Osage County, after all, and stories often lead back to oil. For a time in the early 20th century, oil made citizens of the Osage Nation some of the wealthiest people in the world. Martin Scorsese’s recent film Killers of the Flower Moon unravels one thread of that story.
But Nona is more concerned with the present. Why wasn’t she informed when an oil company filed for bankruptcy and just left their equipment on the Roach acreage? Why did it have to sit on her property for so long? Why did no one answer her calls? She’s not alone in her concerns. The Osage Nation is full of “orphan wells,” wells that are done producing and should be capped but often aren’t, left to sicken the land and people around them.
Vast oil reserves were discovered beneath the Osage Nation reservation more than a century ago. Since then, the tribe’s roughly 2,300 square miles in northeastern Oklahoma have become pockmarked with abandoned oil and gas wells.
The companies that drill and operate these wells are legally obligated to close drill holes and clean up sites once they finish extraction, but when they go bankrupt or abdicate their responsibilities, tribal citizens and landowners are left to deal with the fallout.
Left unplugged, these wells become legacy sources of pollution. They can emit methane, a potent greenhouse gas, as well as leak saltwater, oil, and other toxic materials into the surrounding earth, posing an environmental and public health threat. Tribal officials have identified numerous abandoned wells releasing dangerous liquids and gases near schools, playgrounds, and homes.
Grist and Osage News analyzed Interior Department data and found that there are roughly 2,300 orphaned wells across the Osage Nation — a higher concentration per square mile than any state, including oil-rich Texas and Pennsylvania. Due to poor record-keeping by federal agencies and officials, the true number could be as high as 16,000. In recent years, the federal government has been stepping in to help clean up the mess, announcing $19 million in funds earlier this year. But with the cost of plugging wells in Osage running anywhere between $40,000 and $500,000 per well, it won’t be nearly enough to fix the problem.
The challenges go beyond funding. Interviews with tribal officials, landowners, and Osage citizens revealed that a slew of bureaucratic hurdles and political challenges threaten to derail the cleanup. What’s more, new rules proposed by the Bureau of Indian Affairs, or BIA, the federal agency that oversees oil and gas drilling in Osage, continue to do little to hold companies accountable when they walk away from their environmental responsibilities. The regulations fail to address the underlying problem — unscrupulous oil and gas operators — ultimately ensuring the Nation may be dealing with ballooning orphan well counts for decades to come.
To complicate matters, about one-fifth of Osage Nation’s more than 25,000 citizens are shareholders of the tribe’s mineral estate and have a vested interest in seeing oil production increase. The Osage Minerals Council, however, which represents these shareholders, is wary of stricter federal regulations that might scare oil companies away and diminish the tribe’s already waning profits.
There are several reasons for the high concentration of orphan wells on Osage land. For one, oil and gas production in Osage County has been steadily declining since the 1970s. The Exxons and Chevrons of the world left Osage long ago, and a slew of mostly mom-and-pop operators are now squeezing every last drop of oil from wells that are at the end of their lives. Margins are slim, business is tough, and operators frequently go belly-up or leave the county. According to the Bureau of Indian Affairs, many of the wells in Osage were orphaned more than a half-century ago, making it impossible to locate the operators responsible for their cleanup. Some were plugged through crude methods long since deemed inadequate.
On average, Osage County produces less than five million barrels of oil annually — a small fraction of Oklahoma’s and the nation’s production. The BIA estimates that almost all of the nearly 300 oil and gas companies operating in Osage today are small businesses, with just two firms responsible for almost 40 percent of production in the county. Approximately 100 producers extract less than 1,000 barrels of oil a year — which roughly equates to less than a barrel a day per well.
“The smaller operators are out there managing and dealing with the wells themselves,” said Trevor Henson, an Oklahoma-based oil and gas attorney who has represented the Osage Producers Association, a trade group. “Those guys can’t survive when the prices go down.”
The BIA has failed for a century in its role of protecting and preserving the mineral estate for tribal members, and the amount that the agency requires operators to set aside for well cleanup is inadequate. Whatever cleanup funds it has collected from operators prior to drilling have also been mismanaged. In recent years, the BIA has had little to no funds to turn over to the Nation for orphan well cleanup. The result of these divergent interests and historical mismanagement is that many Osage citizens, including those without shares in the mineral estate, live on land poisoned with oil.
In response to questions from Grist and Osage News, a BIA spokesperson said that the agency “fully complies” with all federal laws and that the agency is currently revising its oil and gas rules for Osage to “bring them in line with the regulations governing oil and gas leasing and development throughout the rest of Indian Country.”
“The extent of this unmitigated problem is a monumental failure of the BIA to fulfill its trust responsibility for oil and gas development in our mineral estate over the past 100 years,” Paul Revard, a member of the Osage Minerals Council, told a congressional appropriations committee earlier this year. “No other Indian tribe in the United States has an orphaned-well problem like the problem impacting our lands. It is not even close.”
Nona Roach is petite with short, neat blond hair and the no-nonsense demeanor that usually accompanies people adept at navigating federal officials and oil wildcatters doing business on her family’s land. One thing you learn about Nona right away: She can recite the Code of Federal Regulations, or CFRs, in her sleep. The CFRs are the rules that govern oil production and leasing on the Osage Mineral’s estate. According to the Bureau of Indian Affairs, these rules require that the agency inform landowners in writing when it approves drilling and plugging permits, and that operators pay commencement fees. But when an operator files for bankruptcy, there are few safeguards in place.
Nearly 20 years ago, Nona noticed a company called McKee stopped operating on her land. Its equipment was idle. No oil was being pumped.
“I kept asking the BIA about it,” Nona said. She called and called. She found out later the company had filed for bankruptcy and that the BIA had terminated its leases. And despite Nona’s many calls, the BIA didn’t tell her. For months, pump jacks and other equipment remained on her land and the wells remained uncapped.
While McKee’s disappearance happened nearly two decades ago, it’s left an indelible mark on the Roaches and their land. In the family truck, Nona cited — from memory — CFR Title 25 Chapter 1 Part 226, which dictates what happens to the equipment when a lease is terminated.
“‘That when lease terminates, all such personal property shall be removed within 90 days or such reasonable extension of time as may be granted by the superintendent,’” she recited. “‘Otherwise, the ownership of all castings shall revert to the lessor and all other personal property.’”
She also points out in that same code the land must be restored “as nearly as practicable to the original state.”
Nona, who has worked for both sides in the oil production business — as an advocate for landowners and to help oil companies navigate regulations in Indian Country — felt like the BIA “did everything they could to make sure we didn’t even know the lease was terminated.”
A BIA spokesperson said that landowners may file complaints regarding operators at any time. “The BIA Osage Agency conducts an inspection and determines what action, if any, is needed,” the spokesperson said.
Wayne Roach says one attempt by a McKee employee to plug a well included cutting down a tree and then sticking its branches into a pipe that juts up from the ground. Then there are the wells, still active on the Roaches’ land, run by the current owner of the lease, a company called Grand Resources. Some of the wells they operate have what is known as a REDA cable that connects the motor to a nearby electrical box. Nona said Grand Resources didn’t use trained electricians and instead used field hands who, in her words, “did a poor job. Those lines have electrocuted and killed cows and horses.”
“Our granddaughters could have been fried just as easy as those cows were, because they were here the day before,” Nona said, noting her granddaughters like to ride their horses around the property.
Active wells have leaked saltwater into nearby ponds where their cattle graze, and even more oozed into their bluestem prairie pasture, turning it brown. At one point, Nona recalls, Grand Resources had contaminated two of their ponds with saltwater at least three times each.
In an email, Scott Robinowitz, president of Grand Resources, disputes the Roaches’ allegations, adding that saltwater spills were cleaned up in conjunction with the Environmental Protection Agency and BIA according to their standards. Robinowitz also disputes Nona’s claims about the REDA cable, saying that all work was done by certified electricians.
Robonowitz characterized the relationship with the Roaches as “relatively cooperative but always at odds about something.”
The rules that govern mineral rights on other tribal lands and across the country don’t apply in Osage County, where a patchwork of tribal and federal bodies regulate oil production and the ensuing environmental fallout.
The Bureau of Indian Affairs Osage Agency building in Pawhuska, Oklahoma. Shane Brown / Grist / Osage News
Since the United States holds the title to the Osage Mineral Estate in trust for the tribe, it gives the federal government sweeping authority over fossil fuel extraction in the county, from issuing companies’ permits for drilling to calculating and distributing profits to shareholders, also referred to as “headright owners.” The BIA carries out these duties as a trustee of the tribe’s energy resources, a legal title that the Secretary of the Interior once described as one of “the highest moral obligations that the United States must meet.”
It plays out like this: Whereas an oil company hoping to drill in West Texas would lease land directly from the owner of a property’s mineral estate, operators in the Osage Nation get permission to drill from the BIA. The Osage Minerals Council, the mineral management agency for the Osage Nation, has the authority to accept bids for leases and works closely with the BIA to represent shareholder interests. According to the BIA, landowners “do not have a say in whether their land is leased for oil and gas mining, who the lessee is, or how long the lessee operates the lease on their land.”
“It’s unique,” said Henson, the oil and gas attorney. “I’m not aware of any individual group that owns all of their mineral estate in America.”
Over the past decade, headright payments have plunged and orphaned wells have endured as a county-wide public health threat. In a 2014 report, the Office of Inspector General, the oversight division within the Department of the Interior, blasted the BIA for policies that led to these conditions. The document, which was published after the Nation reached a settlement with the federal government for mismanaging its energy resources, identified dozens of systemic flaws with the agency’s program, including poorly defined environmental regulations, an antiquated data system, and inadequate protections to ensure oil and gas companies plug wells at the end of their lives.
It wasn’t the first time that the department identified issues with the BIA’s program. In 1990, officials identified many of the same problems, but nearly two decades later, the BIA had failed to carry out most of that report’s recommendations. Correcting these deficiencies, the 2014 report stated, was about more than crafting sounder regulations: It was a matter of fulfilling its trustee duty to the tribe.
“Not only does BIA have the authority, but it also has the obligation to manage the Osage Nation’s oil and gas resources effectively so that headright holders receive the best value for their oil and gas,” the report read.
In an email, the BIA said that it has taken steps to implement the report’s recommendations, and added that the agency fully complies with the National Environmental Policy Act and is working on modernizing existing regulations governing oil and gas leasing on Osage land.
Active wells on the Roaches’ property have leaked saltwater into nearby ponds where their cattle graze. At one point, Nona recalls, the oil operator Grand Resources had contaminated two of their ponds with saltwater at least three times each. Shane Brown / Grist / Osage News
The BIA has rules in place to protect the Nation and landowners from the environmental fallout that might result from a company filing for bankruptcy. But those rules were written in 1974 when the cost of plugging and the number of orphaned wells were lower. Today, those costs are higher in part due to hydraulic fracturing, or fracking, and a limited pool of pluggers.
When an operator applies to drill in Osage, the BIA requires the company to set aside money in the form of bonds in case it’s unable to fulfill its environmental obligations. These financial instruments involve a third-party guarantor. If an operator goes belly-up, the guarantor steps in to provide cleanup funds.
Operators in Osage are required to secure bonds for anywhere between $5,000 to $150,000 depending on the number of acres that they produce on. However, the requirements are wholly inadequate, because a single well can cost anywhere from $40,000 to $500,000 to plug. Collecting $150,000 for dozens of wells means the agency may only have a few thousand dollars — if that — to plug each well.
“Those bonds [were] set back in the 1970s, and it has not been adjusted for inflation,” said Jim Gray, a former principal chief of the Osage Nation. “There’s a justifiable need to update that bond amount just on that reason alone.”
Jim Gray, former chief of the Osage Nation, at Central Park in Skiatook, Oklahoma.
Shane Brown
Jim Gray, former chief of the Osage Nation, photographed at Central Park in Skiatook, Oklahoma. “I would think everyone has a shared interest in a successful plugging of a well,” he said, “that no one is in dispute over whether or not it needs to be plugged.” Shane Brown / Grist / Osage News
BIA rules require that companies secure bonds before they can operate in Osage, but historically, the agency has allowed firms to set aside money using a less stringent form of financial assurance called certificates of deposit, or CDs, a type of savings account that generates interest for a defined period of time.
The 2014 Inspector General report found that this type of “promissory note” from the bank doesn’t prevent companies from borrowing the money in the account. That means the operator may have set aside money on paper, but there may not be any tangible funds for cleanup — essentially, an empty promise. The report noted that in addition to allowing certificates of deposit, the agency did not periodically verify the funds to ensure operators weren’t withdrawing from the accounts. In total, the report found the BIA had secured just $5 million in CDs from nearly 400 operators, but because these had been collected as certificates of deposit, the actual money available for plugging was likely lower. The agency stopped accepting CDs in 2014 as a result of the Inspector General’s findings.
By the time the Osage Minerals Council began trying to plug wells in earnest in 2017, most of the money from the bonds and CDs collected had evaporated. In grant application documents submitted to the Department of Interior, the council noted it had been informed by the BIA “that there are no obtainable surety bonds” for the majority of the documented orphaned wells on Osage land. A BIA spokesperson said that there are approximately 300 lessees currently operating in Osage and that the agency has collected bonds from 30 lessees in the last decade. But the spokesperson did not disclose how much the agency holds in bonds or how much it collected from the 30 lessees.
“For more than a century, BIA has had little to no funding to plug abandoned wells on our Mineral Estate and failed to hold oil and gas developers responsible for plugging their wells,” Revard, the Osage Minerals Council member, told a congressional committee in March.
The Osage Nation Minerals Council building in Pawhuska, Oklahoma.
Shane Brown / Grist / Osage News
To complicate matters further, no tribal or federal agency seems to know for certain just how many orphaned wells there are in Osage County. In a letter to Secretary of the Interior Deb Haaland, Everett Waller, the chairman of the Osage Minerals Council, said the BIA had developed a list of approximately 1,600 abandoned wells by 2017. Using money provided by Congress during the past few years, the council has located almost 700 more. Sources in Osage County described the true scope of the problem as uncalculated, and say the current list of documented wells is likely a vast underestimate.
On its website, the Osage Minerals Council hosts a database of more than 40,000 oil and gas wells across Osage County that it says was created by the BIA. In an email, the BIA said they could not vouch for the authenticity of the data as it was maintained by the Osage Nation and not the federal government but would not confirm if they maintained a similar dataset. Approximately 16,000 of the wells in the list are designated as “ABD,” or abandoned.
Revard added that the true number of orphaned wells is unknown, many of the drill holes never registered in tribal or federal data.
“Some wells were drilled without permits,” he said. “So there’s no record of it. It wasn’t an honest thing to do, but it happened.”
Oilfield detritus near an oil well on Nona and Wayne Roach’s land. The true number of abandoned wells in Osage County is unknown, with many of the drill holes never registered in tribal or federal data. Shane Brown / Grist / Osage News
After the BIA failed for years to address Osage County’s orphaned wells, the Minerals Council decided to take matters into its own hands. In 2016, it appealed to Congress for funds to tackle the problem, and was granted $3 million in 2018 and an additional $1.1 million in 2022. The council got to work assembling a well-plugging committee, which involved identifying wells that posed the highest risk to communities and the environment and finding a group of contractors to close them up. The council has plugged more than 80 wells in Osage County using all of those funds.
In his congressional testimonies over the years, Revard has described the monumental challenges associated with plugging some of the trickier abandoned wells. In one case, the council closed a well that was leaking oil onto a school softball field, only to discover that it had begun venting gas from another opening nearby. To plug a different well, contractors had to reroute a creek and move a hill to haul equipment as well as avoid railroad tracks that ran along the site.
Those railroad tracks are “just one example of how our communities have grown up around these wells,” Revard noted. “Oil and gas development in the Osage Mineral Estate occurs in the same place where our families live, work, and play.”
Given its experience with well-plugging over the last several years, the Minerals Council applied for $49 million of additional funding from the Interior Department early this year, but found out a month later that its grant application had been denied. In its rejection letter, the agency explained that “the Osage Minerals Council is not eligible under the definition of a Federally Recognized Tribe as described in the guidance document.” Instead, $19 million of the funds would go to the Osage Nation, which had submitted its own application for $91 million over five years. There was no coordination between the two entities.
The situation raises tensions between the Nation, which represents all Osage citizens, and the Minerals Council, which only represents headright holders.
“After we spent over a year in this effort, it was really disappointing to not have received the requested funds,” Revard said. “We did all the hard work and we didn’t get any. And the chief got twice as much as what we asked for.”
Without a well-plugging program of its own, the Osage government will have to start from scratch, organizing contractors and identifying high-risk wells just as the council has done previously.
Jim Gray, former chief of the Osage Nation, said the Nation’s environmental department would ideally work in tandem with the Minerals Council to get the job done. However, he acknowledged that rival interests between stakeholders complicate the prospects of such a collaboration.
“I would think everyone has a shared interest in a successful plugging of a well,” he said, “that no one is in dispute over whether or not it needs to be plugged. This shouldn’t even be an issue, should be just getting done.”
The history of the U.S. government’s attempt to impede tribal economic development is a long one. From limiting taxing authority to creating bureaucratic hurdles for businesses, federal and elected officials have restricted the ability of many tribes to freely build sustainable economies. Nowhere are those restrictions more apparent than in the federal government’s involvement with the Osage mineral estate.
The Osage Nation purchased its own reservation in 1872 following the sale of many of its ancestral lands located in present-day Kansas. It’s the only tribe to buy its own reservation, but the 1906 law made the BIA — not the Osage Nation — manager of the day-to-day operation, use, and development of the oil and gas resources that belong to the tribe.
The Osage Nation purchased its own reservation — the only tribe to do so — but a 1906 law made the Bureau of Indian Affairs — not the Osage Nation — manager of the day-to-day operation, use, and development of the oil and gas resources that belong to the tribe.
Shane Brown / Grist / Osage News
The Osage Nation purchased its own reservation — the only tribe to do so — but a 1906 law made the Bureau of Indian Affairs, not the Osage Nation, manager of the day-to-day operation, use, and development of the oil and gas resources that belong to the tribe. Shane Brown / Grist / Osage News
For decades, the federal government also only recognized those Osages with a headright. The thousands of headright-owning Osage members could vote in tribal elections and run for office, but Osages without a share in the mineral estate were denied those rights. It was a unique system even among tribal governments. To rectify the issue, the Osage peoples created a new government with executive, legislative, and judicial branches and ratified a constitution. Today, there are more than 25,000 enrolled Osage members.
For the Osage Nation, protecting the mineral estate has been a priority. Quarterly payments can be a lifeline for headright owners, and over the years, shareholders have accused the BIA of mismanaging the estate. Two decades ago, the Osage Nation sued the agency, claiming that it had failed to pay shareholders the highest posted price on oil and gas leases and allowed buyers to purchase oil up to $2.30 less per barrel. Over the decades, it meant shareholders had likely been shorted billions of dollars.
In 2011, the Nation won a historic $380 million settlement from the United States. As part of that settlement, the Department of the Interior and the BIA were required to work with the Minerals Council on new rules for oil and gas leasing in Osage.
But when the BIA began working on rules in 2013, it caused an exodus of oil and gas operators. The agency’s new proposal made turning a profit near impossible, companies claimed, and the uncertainty over the effects the rules would have led to their departure. In the wake of those rules, oil production declined and royalty payments plunged. In 2012, the payout for a headright was $40,800. By 2020, that figure had dropped to $10,400.
“We had clients abandon the entirety of Osage County” when the rules were proposed, said Trevor Henson, the oil and gas attorney. “From an operator standpoint, they were looking at the fact that they were going to have to comply with these new regulations, and they were going to be so costly that most of them couldn’t afford it, and they just said, ‘Look, I’ll go find a place to operate wells elsewhere.’ The end result is that the Osage mineral estate makes less money.”
Asked why headright payments have declined so dramatically, the BIA made no mention of its regulatory history or its management of Osage resources.
“As with any mineral estate, revenues from the Osage Mineral Estate are impacted by fluctuating energy prices around the world,” a spokesperson said in an email.
The BIA is now attempting to rewrite those rules for the second time. Earlier this year, the agency released a new proposal that increases royalty payments to the Osage Nation but does little to address the agency’s chronically inadequate bonding requirements for orphan wells. If enacted, the new rule would require operators to post bonds depending on well depth or the number of acres they drill on. This highest bond amount is still $150,000. While the new regulations are a slight improvement from current requirements, the agency’s own analysis of the proposal shows that it expects to collect at most $2.4 million in additional bonds over 20 years — enough to plug perhaps 100 wells.
“These proposed revisions secure this special trust asset of the Osage Nation for generations to come through accountability and best industry practices,” Assistant Secretary of the Interior Bryan Newland wrote in a statement.
The agency is keeping bonding levels low in part because of the new round of pushbacks it has received from oil and gas companies as well as the Osage Minerals Council, according to a member of the council. Similar to the changes that arrived a decade before, for companies operating on the margins more stringent bonding requirements can push their financials into the red. And if operators abandon the county and walk away from their environmental responsibilities, orphan well counts could balloon. Fewer operators and less drilling also mean lower royalty payments to the Osage headright owners.
The new rules have little support from tribal officials. At a meeting about the proposed regulations, Principal Chief Geoffrey Standing Bear told Osage News the federal government is stepping on the Nation’s toes.
“They are issuing regulations that are so inclusive of what I think is the Osage Minerals Council business,” Standing Bear said. “It’s like the federal government is showing everyone they don’t have faith in the capabilities of our Osage Minerals Council. I don’t see the federal government going to ConocoPhillips and telling them how to run their business.”
Gray, the former Osage Nation chief, also emphasized the need for the tribe to take the lead in managing the estate. The blame for the vast problem of abandoned oil wells on Osage land, he said, ultimately rests with the oil and gas operators who came to the county to extract fuel and left gaping holes in the earth. But in their absence, the burden falls on the Osage government to clean things up, he said. Gray described this duty as a kind of test, an opportunity for the Nation to demonstrate that the groups within its governance structure can put aside their disagreements for the betterment of its citizens. It’s easy to be on the same page about buying Osage land back from the federal government or applying for a grant to carry out a needed public service in the community, he said. It’s harder to make the right calls on more contentious issues like energy resources.
“There’s a maturation process that I think has to happen,” Gray said. “And the way to get to the other side is by exercising our responsibility as a sovereign nation, in a good way and responsible way in good times, but especially in bad times.”
A view of the Roaches’ land in Osage County. “I think [oil producers] really need to just treat our land like it’s theirs,” says Nona Roach, “and not come in here and pollute and just destroy everything they touch.” Shane Brown / Grist / Osage News
The wells on the Roaches’ land are nearly 90 years old.
Nona Roach says that when McKee filed for bankruptcy, the company didn’t notify the Minerals Council and didn’t take steps to assess their wells — a critical step in the code of federal regulations and key to alerting the BIA on whether to keep the well in production or plug it.
The frustration is palpable. The Roaches say the BIA never sides with the landowner.
“That’s been the problem every time something would happen,” said Nona. “They would side with the operator because who’s making them the money: the operator.”
The couple say they know there’s a new regulation code in development, but they’re not optimistic: There are already laws in place that companies like McKee were supposed to follow. They just choose not to.
A representative with McKee could not be located for comment for this story.
“The whole thing comes down to this,” Nona said. “They already have the regulations and refuse to enforce them. They’re not going to enforce them any better if they have more of them. That’s the problem.”
The Roaches say they’ve had good oil producers on their land, people who clean up the mess, notify them when there is a saltwater leak, and maintain the roads. One producer even helped their cow give birth. Whether or not the new regulations will create an environment that encourages that neighborly attitude, however, and protect the land from orphan wells, the Roaches say they’ll wait and see.
“I think they just really need to just treat our land like it’s theirs,” said Nona. “Not come in here and pollute and just destroy everything they touch.”
Kentucky’s Democratic governor, Andy Beshear, has been called the state’s “consoler-in-chief.” He’s presided over a period of extreme weather in the state, from tornadoes that leveled entire towns in the farmlands of western Kentucky, to record flooding that washed out thousands of homes in its mountainous Appalachian east. Through it all, voters have taken note that the governor has made a habit of personally visiting disaster sites and committing to funding their recovery.
But when it comes to the root causes of the state’s weather troubles, Beshear is quieter. “I wish I could tell you why we keep getting hit here in Kentucky,” said in a media briefing after the floods. “I can’t give you the why, but I know what we do in response to it.”
Though climate scientists and environmental advocates have drawn a link between the disasters and human-caused climate change, Beshear has avoided discussing the topic at length. Now, he’s up for reelection, against a Republican cut from Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell’s cloth.
Daniel Cameron is running for the Kentucky governorship against Andy Beshear.
Alex Wong / Getty Images
On Tuesday, Kentucky voters will be choosing between Beshear and challenger Daniel Cameron, the state’s Republican attorney general. Beshear, a Democrat, upset staunch Republican (and climate denier) Matt Bevin in 2019 in a deep-red state that is still mainly controlled by right-wingers at the local levels and in the state legislature. Cameron, who has reliably come out against environmental regulation at many turns, is appealing for a return to Republican hegemony. As the state has been both pummeled by climate disaster and remains politically enmeshed with the coal industry, Beshear has toed a careful line, one that at times appears self-contradictory, in order to keep his poll numbers strong.
Beshear is among the most popular Democratic governors in the country, and he’s currently polling just ahead of Cameron. He’s accepted endorsements from the United Mine Workers union and high-profile coal mine operators, and he’s eschewed endorsements from major environmental groups that might typically support a Democratic candidate. He’s acknowledged that climate change is real, but in a state that was once ranked third in the country for coal production, connecting fossil fuels specifically to climate change can be tricky.
Kentucky experienced a 65 percent drop in coal production between 2013 and 2022, and eastern Kentucky is reeling from the rapid decline of the industry and resulting layoffs and bankruptcies. Nonetheless, coal still holds cultural significance and exerts economic pull in the state. There are still plenty of active coal mines in both east and west, and the state is still one of the top five coal-burning states in the country.
It’s unclear what actions a re-elected Beshear, or Cameron, would take to speed up the transition to clean energy. Kentucky has been found to be “dead last” in the race to decarbonize, running far behind other states in wind and solar production. Both candidates support an “all-of-the-above” approach to energy. Beshear, alone among Democratic governors, turned down millions in Inflation Reduction Act money for climate mitigation earlier this year, saying that Kentucky cities could still accept the funds. Though the state’s municipalities all are eligible, the move may leave behind rural communities with fewer resources, since application can be arduous. In 2021, Beshear and the state’s Energy and Environment Cabinet unveiled a program called “E3,” which lists gas and oil as essential parts of a diverse energy portfolio, makes no commitments toward decarbonization, and does not mention climate change once. Kentucky’s last climate action plan was created in 2011 — by Steve Beshear, the state’s last Democratic governor and Andy Beshear’s father.
When discussing the energy transition, Beshear tends to focus on something that might be more tangible to his voters: jobs. News releases from the administration center on Kentucky’s record-low unemployment rate and tout thousands of potential jobs in the state’s electric vehicle sector.
Lane Boldman, the executive director of a bipartisan advocacy group called the Kentucky Conservation Committee, says that in red states like Kentucky, it’s crucial for Democratic leaders to keep the focus away from controversial topics that could provoke a knee-jerk negative reaction in voters. “I think it’s a matter of the language you use, versus what your actions are on the ground,” Boldman said.
Boldman pointed to recent investments in utility-scale solar on abandoned eastern Kentucky strip mines, and new electric vehicle battery plants slated for construction across the state, as evidence of progress under Beshear’s administration. She also noted that the administration is going after separate funding within the Inflation Reduction Act for workforce development in the energy-efficiency sector. One report showed that Kentucky’s clean energy sector workforce grew faster than that of any other industry in the state in 2022. If Beshear wants to win, Boldman said, it’s better to keep his head down when it comes to talking about climate change.
“The actions he’s taking are, I think, pretty pro-environment for a state where the politics are very, very conservative,” she said.
Multinational energy company Ørsted has stopped development on two offshore wind projects in the U.S., saying impairments related to the projects could be as high as $5.58 billion, reported Reuters.
The 2,248-megawatt projects, Ocean Wind 1 and 2, are located in New Jersey.
Stock for Danish firm Ørsted, the largest offshore wind developer in the world, fell as much as 22 percent to $37.71, its lowest value in six years.
Ørsted explained the decision by citing rising interest rates, high inflation and supply chain issues, The Guardian reported.
“The world has in many ways, from a macroeconomic and industry point of view, turned upside down,” CEO of Ørsted Mads Nipper said yesterday, as reported by The New York Times.
Nipper said a “perfect storm” of problems was affecting the offshore wind industry worldwide.
“This industry does not need to be in a crisis,” Nipper said, as The Guardian reported. “We are of the opinion that it all hinges on being realistic about [what] power prices need to be.”
The cancellation will likely affect President Joe Biden’s goal of 30 gigawatts of U.S. offshore wind capacity by 2030.
Earlier this week, oil giant BP recorded an $540 million impairment on wind projects, and last week its partner company on offshore wind developments in New York, Norwegian company Equinor, booked an impairment of $300 million, reported Reuters.
Despite the setbacks, the White House said it was still dedicated to offshore wind in the U.S., citing the billions in incentives provided in the Inflation Reduction Act.
“While macroeconomic headwinds are creating challenges for some projects, momentum remains on the side of an expanding U.S. offshore wind industry,” said White House spokesperson Michael Kikukawa, as Reuters reported.
Nipper said the company should not have invested so much in the early stages of Ocean Wind 1.
“I want to be absolutely clear that we are taking away all learnings from this into future project development and timing for capital commitments,” Nipper said, as reported by Reuters.
Nipper said there needed to be a “reset” of the cost of offshore power.
Jeff Tittel, environmental advocate and former director of the New Jersey chapter of Sierra Club, said Ørsted’s cancellation was bad news for clean energy in the state, The New York Times reported.
“There’s really not a Plan B right now,” Tittel said, as reported by The New York Times. “It’s a political disaster.”