Blackouts in California, Texas: a song of ice, fire
The last thing Texas wants to hear even at the best of times — and these are not those — is that it shares something in common with California.
The causes of the enormous failure of the Texas power system during the long weekend’s Arctic blast are, like the grid itself, bound to be complex and wide-ranging. We can expect a volley of jeremiads against wind power, as perhaps half that fleet stopped spinning. But with perhaps more than 30 gigawatts of thermal generating capacity tripping offline, and wind power producing about five gigawatts less than planned, this disaster clearly stretches, as Texas’ grid operator said, “across fuel types.”
That shouldn’t come as a surprise. Texas has been here before. Almost a fifth of the capacity in the Electricity Reliability Council of Texas’ area failed in February 2011, during another unexpectedly ferocious winter snap. Wind barely figured in the mix then. That was the state’s coldest winter weather since the freeze of Christmas 1989. Wind turbines were conspicuous by their utter absence back then.
This is why the desire to blame a disaster like the current one on this or that type of power plant is simplistic and distracts from the real issue.
Texas is experiencing what will be called “unprecedented” conditions, as is a large swath of the Midwest, which is also suffering blackouts. Similarly, California suffered blackouts during a heat wave last August and multiple wildfires in recent years linked to its power grids, especially PG&E Corp.’s in the northern part of the state. These are all, it should be emphasized, very different power systems employing different technologies and market structures.
This isn’t just a question of making sure components on turbines — whether they run on wind or gas — are adequately heated or have the proper antifreeze lubricants or whatever. It extends far beyond that.
We now face a situation in the form of extreme weather events and natural disasters that will increase in frequency and ferocity due to climate change. This will test our 20th century infrastructure built primarily with the goal — backed by price incentives — of expansion rather than conservation.
California’s wildfires naturally raised questions about undergrounding cables and replacing wooden poles for power lines with steel ones. Those are already complex questions with costly answers. But the ramifications of a changed climate raise even thornier ones. Should we break up or agglomerate grids? Who will insure homes in fire zones? Where should people live in a state with high housing costs and restrictive planning in less fire-prone areas? Should people living in safer areas subsidize the risk of those housed in relative tinderboxes hundreds of miles away?
These are the sorts of questions Texas now faces. Even as the costs of renewable power fall, they require energy storage systems that remain expensive for now and, as this disaster demonstrates, require extra investment in winterization. Thermal generation may be more reliable, but clearly not reliable enough in its current configuration — and, lest we forget, much of it also contributes to the climate change making these unprecedented events all too precedented.
Nuclear power offers an alternative solution, but one that is very costly and high-risk from a capital-markets perspective.
When a system fails, whether it be a statewide power grid or just a bathroom tap that worked yesterday but suddenly doesn’t today, we yearn for the simple fix. That loose screw or one component that, if tightened or replaced, will set everything right again. It’s harder to admit that what we built worked fine for generations but just isn’t made for these times. Increasingly, though, that’s where we are.