By Robert Zullo for the Utah News Dispatch part of States Newsroom.
Broadcast version by Alex Gonzalez for Utah News Connection reporting for the Solutions Journalism Network-Public News Service Collaboration
ust about every week, Shawn Grant, who works for Salt Lake City-based Rocky Mountain Power, gets an inquiry from another utility looking for information about the company's Wattsmart battery program.
"We want to do something. ... How did you guys do it?'" Grant, the company's customer innovation manager, says he's often asked. "We're always fielding those questions."
The program pays customers with solar who opt to install battery storage systems for the ability to use that stored electricity to help balance flows on the electric grid.
For customers, the benefits come in the form of lower electric bills and backup power in case of an outage. For Rocky Mountain Power, which has 1.2 million customers in Utah, Wyoming and Idaho, the program allows the company to harness the collective power stored in those distributed batteries to shave electric demand when it spikes rather than calling for more generation from a traditional power plant, among other uses.
"We're using every battery every day to reduce demand on the grid," Grant said.
The concept is known as a virtual power plant, and grid operators, utilities, state regulators and lawmakers across the country are increasingly exploring the possibilities. They are seen as a cost-effective way to aid an electric grid that in many parts of the country is increasingly embattled by power plant retirements as well as difficulties building new, cleaner generation and the transmission lines they need - all at a time when huge projected electric demand increases loom.
"We're now in this load-growth era," said Robin Dutta, acting executive director at the Chesapeake Solar and Storage Association, a solar and storage industry group focused on Maryland, Virginia and Washington, D.C. "When you're mitigating peak demand growth at the source, that's perhaps the most cost effective way to modernize the grid."
'Faster, better, cheaper'
Nearly 800,000 American homes installed a new solar or solar and energy storage system in 2023, according to the Solar Energy Industry Association. That growth set a record, with about 6.8 gigawatts installed, a 12% increase from 2022. Electric vehicles, another potential grid resource as a store of energy, also broke a sales record last year, despite consumer uptake being slower than some expected.
"These are devices that people are buying anyway because they're faster, better, cheaper and virtual power plants allows everybody to leverage these devices while putting some money back in the pockets of people that bought the thing in the first place,"said Brian Turner, a director at Advanced Energy United, a clean energy trade group
The U.S. Department of Energy found in a report last year that large-scale deployment of virtual power plants "could help address demand increases and rising peaks at lower cost than conventional resources, reducing the energy costs for Americans - one in six of whom are already behind on electricity bills."
They're not a new concept, the DOE noted, adding that most existing virtual power plants are so-called demand response programs. In Virginia, for example, the commonwealth for years has run a program that enrolls hundreds of public facilities (airports, universities, K-12 schools, municipal buildings, water treatment plants and others) that agree to reduce or shift their electric demand to relieve strain on the grid. The DOE report says deploying 80 to 160 gigawatts of virtual power plants by 2030 could save about $10 billion in annual grid costs and would "direct grid spending back to electricity consumers." At that scale, virtual power plants could meet between 10 and 20% of peak electric demand. The Rocky Mountain Institute, a research nonprofit focused on sustainability, called virtual power plants "a valuable and largely overlooked resource for advancing key grid objectives," including reliability, affordability, decarbonization and electrification, among others.
However, many states are starting to take notice of the potential:
- Maryland's legislature just passed a bill that, among other provisions, requires utilities to create a pilot program to compensate owners of distributed energy resources like solar and battery storage for services they provide to the grid. "Ratepayers and consumers who invest in clean energy systems should see financial benefits when they provide meaningful grid services," said Del. David Fraser-Hidalgo, a Democrat from Montgomery County who carried the House version of the bill. "Our DRIVE Act does just that; pairing battery storage with renewable generation will help Maryland achieve its clean energy goals, reduce our dependence on fossil fuels and mitigate the negative impacts of climate change."
- Michigan, afflicted by expensive electric prices and high outage rates, has pending legislation, part of a package of pro-solar bills, that would create a virtual power plant program.
- In North Carolina, the state's Utilities Commission has approved a Duke Energy pilot, called the PowerPair program, that it had directed the company to propose that will give customers incentives to install solar and storage. One group of customers will turn over control of the batteries to the utility and the other will participate in a test of "time-of-use rates," which aim to shift customers' usage to periods of lower demand, like running a dishwasher overnight, Utility Dive reported.
- In the summer of 2022, the New England Independent System Operator, which manages the electric grid for Maine, Vermont, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode Island and Connecticut, became the first such organization to use a virtual power plant, Politico's E&E News reported. Sunrun, one of the nation's largest solar installers, said it linked an estimated 5,000 small solar and battery systems to share 1.8 gigawatt hours of energy. In the summer of 2022, during a heat wave that sent temperatures soaring across New England states, residential and other non-utility solar installations reduced demand on the system by about 4,000 megawatts.
- The Pennsylvania Public Utility Commission announced in February that it was seeking comment on proposed rules related to use of distributed energy resources and virtual power plants. "Distributed resources provide the possibility for those who were traditionally consumers to play an active role in ensuring electric reliability and resiliency for themselves and their neighbors, and often in a less expensive way than traditional large generation that requires delivery infrastructure," the commission's chair and vice chair said in a joint statement.
- Arizona Public Service, the largest electric utility in the state, counts 75,000 smart residential thermostats in its Cool Reward program, which provided nearly 110 megawatts of capacity during the summer of 2022.
- A Colorado utility regulator is pushing for Xcel Energy to get a 50 megawatt virtual power plant up and running by the end of 2024, Utility Dive reported. The company, the state's largest utility, already has a program called Renewable Battery Connect that allows it to discharge participating customers' batteries during peak periods in exchange for financial incentives.
- In November, Puget Sound Energy, Washington's largest utility, and AutoGrid, a California software company that provides distributed energy management systems, announced that they were expanding their partnership to develop a virtual power plant. "PSE's VPP will reduce costs and help maintain reliable energy supply to its more than 1 million residential and business customers. Additionally, the VPP solution allows participating customers to receive monetary incentives for sharing assets with the grid and/or curtailing usage, something that's financially beneficial for the community as well as helping the utility efficiently manage increasing electricity demand," the companies said in a news release.
Why it matters
Experts who study and run the nation's electric grid are worried about the pace of the energy transition. Old coal and gas plant retirements
are accelerating, driven by economics, state clean energy policies and utilities' own decarbonization goals. At the same time, massive backlogs in the
queues to connect new power resources - overwhelmingly wind, solar and battery projects - in the regional transmission organizations that run the grid in much of the country mean big delays in replacing that retiring power generation. And after roughly
a decade of flat electric demand, load growth is projected by many experts to
explode as a result of transportation, industrial and home heating electrification, as well as a surge in data center development, among other factors. Throw in the fact that the construction of new transmission lines, essential to get excess power to where it might be urgently needed, has also stagnated and a problematic picture emerges.
"Most utilities in the country are planning on pretty significant load growth," said Turner from Advanced Energy United. "They could plan to build a new peaker plant or they could plan to 'build' VPPs."
That's where utility incentives come into play.
Generally speaking, Turner said, utilities that operate transmission and distribution systems are more friendly to the idea. Companies that also own their own generation, - and make a sizable chunk of their income from guaranteed profits on building new plants - , might not like the idea of a program that erodes the business case for a pricey new facility.
"That's why we have utility commissions," Turner said. "They exist to say to the utility that virtual power plants are a cheaper option for the ratepayer and therefore you should implement it."
However, even companies that might have resisted the idea are facing such dire electric-demand growth scenarios that virtual power plants may be attractive ways to get more flexibility out of the grid more quickly than building new generation.
"This is a way to get the capacity online faster and oftentimes cheaper," Turner said. "Meeting that load growth is a real challenge in a lot of places."
Robert Zullo wrote this article for the Utah News Dispatch part of States Newsroom..
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A North Dakota legislative committee on Thursday took up a trio of bills about landowners' rights as states in this region are eyed for carbon-capture projects.
The measures stem from public scrutiny of Summit Carbon Solutions' plans for a multistate pipeline in the Midwest, to capture ethanol plant emissions for underground storage in North Dakota. State regulators have signed off on it, but some landowners don't like the idea of signing land deals with the company.
Ann Bernhardt of Linton, who lives near the proposed route, provided testimony in favor of a bill to block developers of these projects from turning to "eminent domain."
"All we're asking for from our representatives is a little bit of protection," she said. "Just do what's right."
Eminent domain is a legal move where private property is forcefully turned over for public use, with compensation provided. Groups such as Dakota Resource Council have questioned whether a venture such as Summit's has a public benefit or is driven by corporate profit. The company has said voluntary agreements are the goal but added that these legal tools are needed for the state to take advantage of this technology.
Bernhardt countered that if concerns from landowners and other opponents are overblown, as the project backers imply, then Summit would have all the land agreements in place already.
"If it's a good project, if it's good for everybody," she said, "there's no need for eminent domain."
The company told lawmakers that so far it has agreements with more than 80% of affected landowners in North Dakota for the pipeline to go through their property.
Beyond landowner rights, other concerns include safety issues in the event of a pipeline rupture, and skeptics say this project is touted as an environmental aid but could be used to expand fossil-fuel production.
No action was taken Thursday, but Charlie Adams, Summit's agriculture and stakeholder relations manager, did urge the panel to maintain existing laws that define carbon pipelines as a "common carrier," meaning they transport commodities. He said revoking that status and restricting eminent domain would set North Dakota back.
"Without this law," he said, "there will be no additional development of CO2 projects."
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Eastern Kentucky's largest utility, Kentucky Power, is proposing to expand its energy efficiency programs for residential and commercial customers.
After weeks of bitter cold, most residents will see higher energy bills, especially if they live in homes that lack insulation or rely on outdated heating systems.
Wesley Bryant, a Letcher County resident, said he is shelling out a hefty chunk of his income to pay utility bills. He pointed out any help with weatherization would allow him to reduce costs and use the money for other basic needs, such as food and medical bills.
"I pay two power bills because my home was destroyed in the flood but we still have to keep power on there, in hopes of getting back there," Bryant explained. "And on top of that, we're helping to pay the power bill at my mother-in-law's."
The deadline to submit comments on Kentucky Power's Demand Side Management program is Feb. 3. The company said expanding the program will help address health, safety or structural issues in homes that would otherwise not be eligible for the Weatherization Assistance and Targeted Energy Efficiency programs.
Consumer advocates said the company's proposed funding levels are unlikely to have much effect on overall energy demand in the region. Bryant noted the demand for weatherization and repairs is even greater, as many people displaced in the 2022 floods are still struggling to get long-term housing.
"Kentucky Power has a chance to power Kentucky by investing in the communities, by investing in weatherization," Bryant contended. "We've been experiencing cold here that that's not been felt here in years."
Byron Gary with the Kentucky Resources Council said while he is concerned about how Kentucky Power said it will recover costs, the program should be tailored to serve the most vulnerable residents.
"These programs run out of money before everybody who has applied can be served," Gary observed. "A lot of times, they end up prioritizing houses where the fixes are what you might call 'low-hanging fruit;' they're a lot easier to do."
Kentucky Power ratepayers already paid the state's highest average residential electricity bill in 2023, at $187 a month, according to state data.
Disclosure: The Kentucky Solar Energy Society and the Kentucky Resources Council contributes to our fund for reporting on Energy Policy, Environment, and Water. If you would like to help support news in the public interest,
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By Yessenia Funes for Atmos.
Broadcast version by Alex Gonzalez for Arizona News Connection reporting for the Solutions Journalism Network-Public News Service Collaboration
Leonard Selestewa is used to broken promises. The 62-year-old grew up in the house his father built for his mother on the Hopi Reservation in Arizona, where 35% of households don't have access to electricity. He still lives here, growing subsistence crops like blue corn and lima beans. Throughout the years, Selestewa has heard U.S. government and tribal officials promise-and fail-to improve infrastructure and create jobs for his people.
Such betrayal is prevalent throughout Indigenous history in North America. Selestewa, of the Hopi Sun Clan, spent much of his life adapting to a world off-grid. He found light where he could-in the morning sun, kerosene lamps, gas-run generators, flashlights, and other battery-powered devices.
Then, last year, Selestewa's clan brother called to connect him with Native Renewables, a nonprofit offering free solar energy systems to eligible households on the Navajo and Hopi reservations. Selestewa didn't get his hopes up. A year passed without a word. Then, one July evening, as the sun was setting outside, Selestewa was sitting in semi-darkness, thinking about those promised solar panels when his phone finally rang. It was almost as though his thoughts summoned a response; the organization was calling to tell him his family qualified for a free energy system. A month later, Selestewa said goodbye to the darkness, for there was finally light-and so much of it.
"We could watch movies all night and do something called a movie marathon if we wanted to," he laughed.
It's easy to take for granted such simple delights, but over 13,000 households across the Navajo Nation and Hopi Tribe don't have electricity. Native Renewables is on a mission to change that.
Since its founding in 2015, the Native- and women-led organization has donated 95 off-grid residential solar systems to Hopi and Diné families that now have electricity powered by clean energy without the power lines. The organization has completed 25 installations so far this year, but the goal is to do 100 annually. Part of its work involves hiring local Indigenous people and training them for careers in solar, too. And now, President Joe Biden's landmark climate law, the Inflation Reduction Act, has awarded Native Renewables several million dollars in federal funding, allowing them to expand. Their work isn't only about electrifying homes for Native families; it's also about paving a future where Indigenous communities thrive and determine their own destinies.
Healing Generational Harm
In the early 20th century, there was a mad rush for coal and, eventually, uranium on Navajo and Hopi lands. Those resources helped the U.S. advance in both energy and military might, but the federal government repeatedly denied the Diné and Hopi peoples their own advancements at home.
In 1936, when President Teddy Roosevelt signed the Rural Electrification Act as part of his New Deal policies, he didn't include tribal lands. The law allowed farmers to access low-cost loans to build power lines and bring in electricity. Some 1.5 million farms gained access to electricity-but the Diné and Hopi were excluded. Then, in 1966, Congress enacted a ban on development for a swath of land that the two Indigenous groups were contesting. The Bennett Freeze, as it went on to be named, further delayed the introduction of electricity to 1.5 million acres of Native land until the government lifted it in 2009.
Nearly a century after private companies and the federal government began to extract both coal and uranium, Indigenous communities are left with little to show. Instead, the coal and uranium industries decimated their water resources and created generations of health issues. Neither brought in the development or investment that should've eventually led to basic infrastructure upgrades like power lines.
Of all tribal communities in the U.S., energy inequity is starkest for the Diné and Hopi: A 2023 report from the Department of Energy Office of Indian Energy estimates that 21% of Navajo homes and 35% of Hopi homes have no access to electricity. Their situation isn't unique, however. The report estimates that over 54,000 Native American people have no home access to electricity; other Indigenous communities affected include the Standing Rock Reservation, the Mescalero Apache Reservation, and the Salt River Reservation. Government research has also found that the households that can access electricity pay a higher price due to their remote location or lack of utility options. The COVID-19 pandemic illustrated the urgency of such infrastructure gaps when students were required to attend school virtually, a task that requires stable internet and energy access.
Well, what if Diné and Hopi families could utilize their abundance of sunlight to get connected without paying for a thing?
That was the intention with Native Renewables. Suzanne Singer, cofounder and executive director, grew up spending her weekends and summers in the Navajo Nation with her grandparents, whose home had no energy or running water. There were still transmission lines buzzing over the family's property, but that electricity wasn't for them. Produced with local resources, the energy was sent to non-Native households miles away. Singer knows firsthand what families are going through-and that lived experience has strengthened the group's programs.
"One thing that is underlying the work we're doing is recognizing that we need electrification solutions in our own communities," Singer said. "It was unfortunate that the energy development that was happening was impacting our communities but not fully benefiting [them] in the way our community members wanted."
Power for Indigenous People, by Indigenous People
Native Renewables offers a workforce training program for local Indigenous peoples. Since 2015, the group has created 19 jobs for people from the Navajo Nation and Hopi Tribe. With their new federal funds, the team is planning to hire at least five more people this year. The organization wants communities to reap the economic benefits that come with this work rather than exporting those dollars elsewhere should outsiders come in to do the job.
Hiring Indigenous employees is essential to their work. Their teams build long-term relationships with the families receiving the off-grid solar systems, which come with both solar panels and battery storage. Workers visit families once a year for five years to ensure their system-whether that's the batteries, panels, or software-remains up to date. After five years, however, families become responsible for maintenance, including replacing their batteries at some point. The group is sure to advise households of this in advance so they can put aside money before the batteries die out.
The installers also teach families how to operate and maintain the devices. These are small systems meant to allow families to refrigerate foods, power electronics, and connect to the internet. They're not large enough to support power tools, air conditioners, space heaters, and other energy-intensive appliances. That's a challenge, but one the organization has been thinking about, especially as fossil fuel pollution has made extreme heat more deadly in the Southwest. Training and education are made far easier with Indigenous employees. When Selestewa received his solar panels, all of the workers were Indigenous-one young Hopi woman could even speak to him and his mom in their native Hopi language.
"When we started this work, there were a lot of beliefs that solar doesn't work," Singer said. "We've learned that that's due to a history of the models of parachuting in, dropping technology, and then leaving without having a support system in place."
Sandra K. Begay, the Indian Energy Program lead at the Sandia National Laboratories with the Department of Energy, has seen different attempts to electrify tribal lands in Arizona come and go. A few things stand out about Native Renewables's strategy. For one, the systems come prefabricated, so installers have less work to do at a person's home. Plus, their educational component is more in-depth than those that came before, ensuring that families understand how much energy goes into the devices they want to use.
Parvannah Lee, a 30-year-old Diné woman from the Sleep Rock People Clan and Old Zuni Clan, has been working for Native Renewables for nearly two years-and the opportunity has been life-changing. She used to work in healthcare, but she realized that running vitals on patients and treating them weren't addressing the root causes of some of their health issues.
"I realized that not having access to running water, fresh fruits and vegetables, [and] electricity are also public health crises," Lee said.
She left that career behind in 2019 and took part in a training program with Native Renewables. During that time, Lee was living in her car because her family home was two hours from where training was happening. Back then, the organization wasn't yet hiring for full-time roles, so Lee kept applying for other training programs to build her skills. In 2020, she spent a few weeks training with Red Cloud Renewable, another Native-led nonprofit on the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota dedicated to workforce development in the solar and housing sectors. She finally saw an opening at Native Renewables in 2022 and got the job, which has allowed her to find stable housing and feel a safety she hadn't known for a long while.
"I didn't realize I was living in a flight-or-fight mode until I found this place to live and had my own room," Lee said. "With Native Renewables, I have a sense of security. I find myself in a really good place right now in life."
The benefits could be better-there's no retirement plan or dental and vision health insurance yet-but Lee feels confident about a brighter future ahead. For herself, Native Renewables, and her people, this is only the beginning.
Yessenia Funes wrote this article for Atmos.
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