By Ramona Schindelheim for WorkingNation.
Broadcast version by Nadia Ramlagan for West Virginia News Service reporting for the WorkingNation-Public News Service Collaboration

As the country transitions to green energy, and natural gas has become more affordable, the appetite for coal continues to fade. By 2025, electricity powered by solar energy is forecast to jump significantly in the United States, while coal production is expected to hit its lowest level since the 1960s.

Employment in the coal mining industry has been on a steady downward path since the mid-1980s when there were 178,000 people employed in the industry. Compare that to roughly 43,000 today.

For regions like Appalachia, once the country's leader in coal production, the impact is stark. West Virginia - the only state entirely in the Appalachian region - has been particularly hard hit.

At $27,346, its per capita income level is the second-lowest in the country, only slightly bigger than Mississippi. Its labor participation rate of 54.8% is also one of the lowest in the country and many young people are leaving the state to find opportunities elsewhere.

It's those kinds of financial realities that are the driving force behind a new generation of West Virginians determined to stay put and rebuild Appalachia's economy.

"We're not here to demonize the coal industry. We're here to build upon its legacy and continue our birthright to produce energy, but through new tools," says Jacob Hannah, CEO of the nonprofit Coalfield Development, which is training and hiring workers in growing industries.

Embracing a Diversified Economy That is Creating Jobs

"When folks look at Appalachia, you hear a lot about the loss of jobs, loss of employers, due to the coal companies shutting down and other companies shutting down because of that. There's a large amount of people who have given up looking for work because there's either not a lot of employment near their isolated community in Appalachia, or they've been impacted by the dilapidation of coal," explains Hannah.

Coalfield Development serves 21 counties in southern West Virginia and is headquartered in Huntington, one of the cities hardest hit by the opioid overdose epidemic.

"We focus on hiring people facing barriers to employment and connecting them to our personal, professional, and academic development model. These are folks coming out of incarceration, coming out of recovery, and coming from being laid off from the coal mines or other industries."

Hannah says there's a combination of need and opportunity right now in West Virginia and the nonprofit's strategy is to learn from the past and move away from an economy that was so dependent on one industry.

"Our solution to avoiding those challenges, and reversing some of the damage, is to go from a mono economy to a diversified economy where there's multiple opportunities and multiple markets that can bring up the workforce."

The nonprofit wholly or partially owns a number of employment-based social enterprises, "enterprises that exist for the purpose of advancing the well-being of its employees."

It's through these businesses that Coalfield Development offers paid on-the-job training in what it sees as industries with a future in West Virginia, including renewable energy, construction, manufacturing, re-use and recycling, and agriculture.

"We have what you would call 'brain drain' in the region. A lot of people in their 20s have left for other opportunities. That leaves a large swath of people either just coming out of high school, or folks in their 30s or older. We've had trainees as old as in their 60s," says Hannah.

He adds, "There's no shortage of people that need jobs and there's no shortage of employers that need the people. It's a matter of connecting the two."

The most comprehensive program requires a three-year commitment. Workers receive 33 hours a week of paid on-the-job training, six hours of community college to obtain an associates degree, and three hours of mentoring and coaching to remove barriers such as regaining a driver's license for people who might be justice-impacted. A shorter model offers paid on-the-job training as an introduction to one of the sectors, along with mentoring support for six months.

"You're also in a union job, so it's paying good wages with good benefits," says Hannah.

There is also a free one-month program offered around in-demand industries such as solar energy and construction. "They're not on our payroll. They're community individuals that are looking for information on a topic that aligns with the employment demand in the community or region," he adds.

Mining the Sun in West Virginia

Coalfield Development has hired more than 1,700 people for local jobs through its training programs since its founding in 2010. Hannah estimates that 75% of the trainees have remained in the workforce, with another 25% choosing to continue their education.

The nonprofit has supported or started 72 new businesses, creating another 800 new jobs, according to Hannah.

The biggest social enterprise in the Coalfield Development ecosystem is Solar Holler, one of the largest solar installers in West Virginia. The jobs provided through the training program are IBEW union apprenticeships.

Solar Holler's website says its mission is to "Mine the Sun" and touts that "For generations, Appalachians have powered America. We continue that legacy with clean energy that empowers our neighbors and renews our communities."

In just over a decade the company has completed more than 1,400 solar installations in homes, businesses, and nonprofits.

Solar Holler and Coalfield Development are part of a broader coalition called ACT (Appalachian Climate Technology) NOW that competes for federal dollars to have a bigger impact. The coalition has been awarded roughly $88 million dollars in federal grants and matches from non-federal sources.

That investment has translated into a bigger push to train workers in the solar energy industry in the region, a trend that is evident around the country. The demand for solar installers nationwide is expected to grow 22% over the next eight years.

In West Virginia, where the minimum wage is $8.75 an hour, solar installers average nearly twice that amount at $17.31 an hour.

'I was pretty much just scheming to get out, pretty much as soon as possible'

When 21-year-old Dylan Albright discovered there was a free, one-month program to learn more about solar energy jobs, he was intrigued.

He says he and his friends have long been interested in sustainability, but after high school he went to a trade school and boot camp for computer systems repairs. While he was offered part-time jobs, he says the wages were not much different that what he was earning in a warehouse for a retailer and believed he'd need to leave West Virginia.

"For pretty much my entire middle school, high school, and even some of my early adult life, I was pretty much just scheming to get out, pretty much as soon as possible," says Albright.

When they learned about the free program at Coalfield Development, he and his friends signed up.

"When we heard that there was a program teaching people about the ins and outs of solar, including installation and how it worked, it was kind of a no brainer for us to hop on that and learn as much as we could about it," says Albright.

Last fall, Albright says, he learned everything from design and installation of solar panels to how to operate a forklift and eventually earned certifications that included the OSHA 10-Hour Construction Certification.

He now works full-time as a solar installer for Solar Holler, with insurance and benefits through his union. "I'm comfortable knowing that if I needed to, I could live alone without a roommate. I could support myself and still be building savings."

Albright says he likes his new job, but cautions it may not be for everyone.

"You're working long hours, up on a roof, and on a harness. It does get the back and upper body working, for sure. But if you like moving your body, and you like having a variety in the tasks that you can do, it's a pretty nice job." he says. "Honestly, it's the best job I've had by far, I feel pretty good. I feel like I could stick around for a lot longer than I used to think."

'For me, it's deeply personal'

Coalfield Development CEO Hannah is a fifth generation West Virginian. Three generations of his family worked in the coal industry and he is personally invested in building a better future for Appalachians through a more diversified economy, one that builds on the energy that powered it for so long.

"We're not here to just mine coal, we're mining the sun. Coal is just sunlight that's trapped in the soil for a billion years and we are just cutting out that middle man of the billion years and going straight to the source.

"For me, it's deeply personal. It's deeply spiritual. It's what I consider a just transition, something that's been needed for the last 100 years.

"This work is what I would have wished my dad had the chance to do. I saw him get laid off from the coal mines and get his last check in the mail. I've seen businesses in my community shut down. I, myself, had to leave to go to school to find better opportunities.

"Now, it is seeing folks be able to have agency and dignity again, and for our region not to continue to be this battleground area for this narrative that it's down in its mouth, down on its luck, and just doesn't wanna work. None of that's true. This is a way to give us the tools to prove that in a way that honors our legacy, as well."


Ramona Schindelheim wrote this article for WorkingNation.


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Small businesses in Arizona are feeling the impact of the sudden federal pause on clean-energy grants.

One of those businesses is the Pines Inn and Suites in Cottonwood.

The business was able to cover a hefty chunk of the first phase of its solar-installation cost with help from the Rural Energy for America Program, or REAP.

It also received assistance from the renewable-energy Investment Tax Credit thanks to the Inflation Reduction Act.

Corey Bruening and his wife are part owners and general managers at the hotel. Bruening said they haven't been able to move forward with the second phase of the project.

"Our plans for what we would improve on our property have halted," said Bruening, "because we were kind of hoping that we would still have the budget to do those things."

Bruening said they were recently contacted by the U.S. Department of Agriculture, which said all new project applications have stopped.

They're also currently reviewing existing ones to see if they align with the new administration's guidelines.

On his first day in office, President Donald Trump signed an executive order that froze the distribution of IRA funds for clean energy and the bipartisan infrastructure law.

That was later overruled by a federal judge that demanded payments be restored.

Bruening said he is concerned about if and when they'll be able to finish their project.

Arizona has received more than $14 million in REAP grants and loans that have come from the IRA.

For Bruening and his family, it has always been important to want to improve the vitality and resiliency of the Verde Valley, which he said is now being put in jeopardy.

"The solar installer for us has now just said that they've stopped taking applications," said Bruening. "Like, all the application processes have stopped, and he is not recommending that they apply to new ones because that whole program has been stopped."

Bruening clarified that through REAP, beneficiaries receive financial assistance, but still must pay for the installation of their projects.

He said the help provided through the program allows farmers and small businesses such as his the opportunity to entertain investments that otherwise would be out of reach.




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By Seth Millstein for Sentient.
Broadcast version by Nadia Ramlagan for Kentucky News Connection reporting for the Sentient-Public News Service Collaboration

Shortly after taking office in January, President Trump issued a flurry of executive orders seeking to reverse or limit federal action on global warming, and cast doubt on the future of countless climate change-oriented policies in the U.S. One of the most popular tools for fighting climate change is carbon offsets, and they could well be impacted by Trump’s rollback of pro-environment policies.

However, the biggest threat to carbon offsets’ viability isn’t the Trump administration. It’s their own ineffectiveness, and potential to allow major polluters — including the owners of factory farms — to continue to engage in practices that are systemically unsustainable. Despite their popularity, there’s a growing consensus among experts that carbon offsets, which are meant to reduce carbon dioxide emissions, are not an effective tool for fighting climate change, and in some cases may do more harm than good. 

“They have a really big credibility problem right now,” Tina Swanson, senior scientist at the environmental nonprofit Project Drawdown, tells Sentient. “Most carbon credits out there are not reducing carbon in the way that they are purported to do.“

Why is it that carbon offsets, the market for which is estimated to be around $800 billion, so often fail to do what they purport to do? 

To answer that, let’s first look at what a carbon offset is.

What Are Carbon Offsets?

The idea behind carbon offsets is that polluters can “offset” the impact of their own carbon dioxide emissions by funding programs that reduce emissions elsewhere. A simple example of this would be an oil company paying to have trees planted in the Amazon, as trees trap carbon from the atmosphere. 

Carbon offsets are often touted as a way for companies to neutralize their emissions. As such, the meat and dairy industry are increasingly turning to offsets — or, a newer carbon market scheme called insets — as a marketing tool. By purchasing carbon credits or funding reforestation projects, these companies can promote meat and milk as “carbon-neutral” or “climate-friendly,” when, in reality, they are anything but. 

In practice, carbon offsetting first requires some entity to commoditize emissions-reducing programs, such as carbon farming (carbon markets for regenerative farms), so that they can then be “purchased” by high-emissions companies seeking to offset their emissions. 

These transactions take place on carbon markets, of which there are two types: voluntary carbon markets, which are optional to participate in, and compliance carbon markets, which companies generally enter into in order to comply with state, federal or national laws regarding emissions.

It’s a nice idea, in theory. In fact, many climate solution models for food systems rely on some number of carbon offset initiatives to arrive at their climate goals. Globally, food systems are responsible for around a third of all greenhouse gas emissions, with most food-related emissions fueled by beef production. 

But over the years it has become clear there are a number of problems with carbon offsets, both on a conceptual and practical level. As a result of these problems, many carbon offsets provide few to no benefits. Others actively make climate change worse, by enabling polluters like the meat and dairy industry to avoid making any changes. Let’s look at why.

Why Carbon Offsets Ultimately Aren’t a Climate Solution

There are three problems with carbon offsets as a climate solution. Let’s dig into each of them.

Problem #1: Carbon Offsets Can’t Be Our Only Form of Climate Action

The first issue with carbon offsets is a foundational problem with the concept itself: In order to actually reach net-zero emissions, polluters cannot only rely on offsets. These industries also need to emit less carbon on their own.

“In order for us to meet our climate goals — whether it’s 1.5 [degrees] or two — we’re going to have to reduce emissions to the point where the amount of CO2e [carbon dioxide equivalent] that we emit equals the amount that is absorbed by whatever existing natural systems, or technological systems, exist on the planet,” Swanson says, referring to the broadly accepted goal of limiting global temperatures to 1.5 degrees above pre-industrial levels. “If you’re paying someone else to reduce emissions but not reducing your own, that is not positive progress.”

Problem #2: Most Carbon Offsets Don’t Reduce Emissions

The second problem is practical: According to a growing volume of research, most carbon offsets don’t actually reduce emissions. There are a number of reasons why, which we’ll look at in a moment.

Problem #3: The ‘Moral Hazard’ of Carbon Offsets

The last problem is what Swanson calls the “moral hazard” of carbon offsets as a plan for reducing emissions. If a person or company buys an offset that doesn’t actually work, they might continue to pollute as they normally would, under the mistaken belief that they’ve done their part to fight climate change.

“If you go out there and you spend money to have somebody else reduce emissions, it basically gives you permission to not reduce your own emissions,” Swanson says. “There’s a risk that not only will it not effectively get us to net-zero, it actually may even slow emissions reductions by those entities that are buying the carbon credits and using them as offsets.”

How Carbon Offsets Fail

Researchers now have quite a bit of evidence that most carbon offsets don’t actually reduce emissions.

In 2023, a nine-month investigation into Verra, the leading certifier of voluntary carbon offsets, found that up to 90 percent of the non-profit’s rainforest offsets were “worthless,” and did not bring about a reduction in emissions. A 2017 study by the European Commission found that 85 percent of offsets used by the European Union under the UN’s Clean Development Mechanism also didn’t reduce carbon emissions, while a 2023 meta-study covering over 2,000 offset projects concluded that only 12 percent of them effectively reduced emissions.

But why exactly are carbon offsets so ineffective in accomplishing their stated goal?

Reason #1: Unintended Consequences

Often, well-intentioned carbon offset plans fail due to unforeseen consequences and side-effects of the offsets. Cookstove projects are a prime example of this.

In many parts of the developing world, food is cooked and water is heated using a setup called a three-stone fire. It’s essentially a stove, plate or other heating surface balanced atop three rocks and heated with flaming wood, or other biomatter, underneath. Though easy to use and maintain, three-stone fires are spectacularly inefficient, as the vast majority of the heat they generate — between 85 and 90 percent, according to some studies — escapes into the air without warming the food in question. Instead, this heat warms the planet, as the black carbon that these stoves emit is a short-lived but extremely potent greenhouse gas.

In an attempt to bring down these emissions, there have been many efforts to bring more efficient stoves to the regions in which three-stone fires are the norm. Some of these efforts have taken the form of carbon offset programs; the hope is that if families using three-stone fires replace them with more efficient cookstoves, the net result will be lower emissions.

In practice, it hasn’t quite worked out that way.

Because these new stoves are so much more efficient, the families that receive them often end up cooking more food in total than they’d been cooking with the three-stone fires. Sometimes, this means using the efficient stoves — which still emit some amount of CO2 — more frequently than they’d been using the three-stone fires; in others cases, it means families are now using both the new stoves and three-stone fires concurrently.

As a result, a 2024 study found that the emissions savings of cookstove carbon offset programs are overstated by around 1,000 percent. However, it’s worth noting that one offset certifying company, Gold Standard, “only” overstated the emissions savings of cookstove offsets by 150 percent.

A similar problem is also common in carbon offset programs that claim to protect trees from deforestation. Preventing a section of trees from being cut down is good — but if the result is that the deforesters simply cut down an adjacent section of trees instead, which is often what happens, the “protection” effort hasn’t really accomplished anything.

Reason #2: Lack of ‘Permanence’

In order for a carbon offset to be effective, it must have what experts call “permanence.” This means that the carbon they store must be stored forever, not just temporarily, and it applies primarily to offsets purporting to trap and sequester carbon.

Tree-centered offsets are the prime example of this. Suppose a carbon offset program successfully protects an acre of trees from being deforested for 10 years. Over the course of that decade, the trees will remove a significant amount of carbon from the atmosphere, which is obviously a good thing.

But suppose that after 10 years, a forest fire destroys that acre of trees. This will release all of the carbon they’ve stored, every ounce of it, back into the atmosphere, thus completely undoing all of the project’s progress and essentially rendering it worthless.

This isn’t just a theoretical worry: One study of a forest preservation offset program found that four years after its launch, half of the trees it claimed to protect were no longer there.

Soil carbon sequestration is another type of offset that faces permanence problems. Soils store carbon naturally, and for a time many soil scientists touted the idea that certain regenerative farming practices, like planting certain crops, could boost the amount of carbon on farm soils, serving as a powerful tool for climate action. Backed by U.S. Department of Agriculture support and investment, a number of carbon offsets programs were launched to pay farmers for their carbon farming efforts.

But soil’s grasp on the carbon that it takes in is tenuous. Research has shown that carbon added to the soil closer to the surface doesn’t stay put, unlike deeper carbon stores that date back tens of thousands of years. Weather, microbial activity, climate change and standard farming practices like tilling can disrupt the soil and release that carbon back into the atmosphere too, thus negating any theoretical emissions reductions.

Reason #3: Lack of ‘Additionality’

In addition to permanence, carbon offset programs also need what’s called “additionality.” This means that the offset issuer can’t purport to be reducing emissions that were never going to be emitted in the first place. Unfortunately, they often do.

For instance, it’s not uncommon for carbon offsetting companies to claim that they’re protecting trees from deforestation when in reality, the trees in question were never marked for deforestation in the first place.

In 2021, a study found that the majority of wind farms built in India as part of a UN-endorsed carbon offset program would have been constructed even without the offsets, while a 2024 Washington Post investigation found that most forest preservation offsets in the Amazon claimed to be protecting forest that was already on protected land.

Reason #4: Questionable Logic

Sometimes, carbon offsets fail due to slippery interpretations of what it means to “reduce emissions.” This is a key point of contention in California’s Low Carbon Fuel Standard (LCFS), a program aimed at reducing transportation-related emissions in the Golden State.

The LCFS requires the carbon intensity of all fuel sold in the state to decrease every year. In order for this to happen, bulk fuel producers need to either sell less fuel, reduce the carbon emissions inherent in their own supply chains, or purchase carbon offsets.

Around 80 percent of the offsets in the LCFS programs are biofuels. This is a type of fuel, made from organic matter, that emits fewer greenhouse gasses than fossil fuels. As such, every gallon of biofuel that’s sold instead of fossil fuel constitutes a reduction in emissions.

Does it really, though? After all, biofuels are still a form of diesel fuel, and as such, they still perpetuate a reliance on vehicles that run on gas, and gas-guzzling cars emit far more CO2 than their electric counterparts. What’s more, many biofuels are created by repurposing the waste from factory farms, which themselves are enormous emitters of greenhouse gasses.

California has the self-imposed goal of reaching 100 percent zero-emission vehicles by 2035. Many have argued that reinforcing the state’s reliance on diesel-powered vehicles undercuts this goal and, more generally, the goal of moving away from gas as a fuel source.

How Will the Trump Administration Impact Carbon Offsets?

The federal government’s involvement in carbon offsets is surprisingly minimal. There is no federal compliance market for carbon offsets in the U.S., though several states have erected them, and while the Biden administration did release a broad set of guidelines aimed at shoring up the carbon offset market, they are non-binding and unenforceable.

It’s been suggested that the Trump administration’s broadly anti-environment agenda might indirectly impact carbon offset projects, though it’s too soon to say how.

It’s possible that Trump’s general opposition to pro-climate policies could lead to a general increase in U.S. emissions, which could in turn lead to more companies buying carbon offsets. Alternatively, a decrease in federal funding for climate research could impede the continued development of carbon-trapping machines, which are sometimes used in carbon offset projects.

The Bottom Line

Swanson stresses that, though carbon offsets have myriad downsides, the mere act of paying somebody else to reduce their carbon emissions, or trap other people’s emissions, isn’t necessarily in itself a bad thing.

The problem, she says, lies with the word “offset,” and more broadly, with the perception that carbon credits somehow “cancel out” the carbon that is emitted.

“There is value in entities, or parties, paying to help other people reduce emissions,” Swanson says. “But if you’re doing that for the purpose of not having to produce your own emissions, then in terms of the sort of unrelenting and unforgiving math of climate change, it’s not going to cut it.”


Seth Millstein wrote this article for Sentient.


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Lawmakers in Congress are considering repealing financial incentives for clean energy in order to fund other priorities of the Trump administration.

In Nebraska, startup funding for wind and solar projects is on the line, as well as hundreds of jobs. Right now, Nebraska is 47th in the nation for its amount of installed solar power infrastructure.

Liz Veazey, Omaha-based director of state policy campaigns for Solar United Neighbors Action, said cutting the financial incentives for the state to expand solar would send Nebraska's environmental health in the wrong direction.

"As a state, we also don't have much natural gas or coal, and most of that has to be imported from out of the state," Veazey pointed out. "That requires us to send millions of dollars out of the state to import those dirty fuels."

Veazey added creating more solar and other clean energy infrastructure also creates more jobs and lowers consumers' energy bills. Right now, expansion is underway in Grand Island on the second-largest solar farm in the state, which will provide power for 10,000 Nebraska homes when it comes online.

Research shows removing clean energy tax credits would increase residential electricity bills by 9% and cost the state more than 2,000 jobs.

Jack Pratt, associate vice president of political engagement for Environmental Defense Fund Action, said cutting the tax incentives could hobble recent high-tech investments in the Nebraska economy.

"There's been a ton of data centers in Nebraska," noted. "Those do create a lot of jobs and a lot of investment, but they also consume a lot of energy."

Pratt stressed the jobs make creating renewable sources of energy imperative. A 30% tax credit to retrofit a home with solar panels and a $7,500 cash rebate to buy an electric vehicle would be eliminated. The U.S. House could vote on whether to keep the incentives this month.


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