Workforce housing has historically built itself when government allows it to. For generations, landowners subdivided portions of their farms, local builders constructed modest homes, and young families were able to put down roots in the communities where they worked. Today, that process has become so burdened by regulation, permitting requirements, engineering standards, and local opposition that many small builders simply cannot participate.

Augusta has recognized the housing crisis. Lawmakers have introduced bills intended to encourage housing development and reduce barriers. Yet many of these proposals die in committee or are watered down before they become meaningful reforms. Meanwhile, the crisis worsens.

We need to ask difficult questions. Why do we continue to allow towns to use zoning ordinances to effectively prohibit the housing that working families need? Why are landowners prevented from subdividing their own property without expensive layers of state and local approval? Why have we accepted a system where a modest subdivision proposal can require tens or even hundreds of thousands of dollars in engineering and permitting costs before a single shovel enters the ground?

My last subdivision permit cost approximately $30,000 in permitting expenses and more than $200,000 in engineering costs. Large national developers may be able to absorb those expenses, but how are small Maine builders supposed to compete? How are local companies expected to build attainable housing when government policies create such high barriers to entry?

We also need to confront the role that NIMBYism—“Not In My Backyard” thinking—plays in shaping housing policy. Why do we allow people who are already comfortably housed to prevent others from finding housing simply because they do not want new neighbors? Why do we permit subdivision ordinances and zoning regulations to be written primarily by those who already own homes, while the people most affected—young families, renters, and future residents—often have little voice in the process?

Every individual regulation can usually be justified in isolation. One ordinance protects wetlands. Another addresses traffic. Another improves stormwater management. Another standard enhances aesthetics. But what we cannot justify is the cumulative effect of these regulations. When the result is that working families cannot afford homes, young people leave the state, homelessness increases, and employers struggle to find workers, then the system itself deserves scrutiny.

The population map produced by Maine’s State Economist tells an important story. Population growth is occurring across much of Maine, but it is increasingly bypassing communities that have layered on extensive regulation, high taxes, and restrictive housing policies. Instead, growth is spilling outward into neighboring towns with lower costs and fewer barriers to development.

This is not evidence that people do not want to live in places like Belfast, Camden, or Rockport. Quite the opposite. These communities remain among the most desirable places in Maine to live. The problem is that local policies have made them increasingly unaffordable for the very people who work there.

Teachers, nurses, carpenters, police officers, mechanics, fishermen, and young families are making rational economic decisions. When they cannot afford a home in the community where they work, they move farther away. They buy land in neighboring towns with lower taxes, less restrictive zoning, and fewer regulatory hurdles. The result is a pattern of sprawl driven not by preference alone, but by policy.

Ironically, many of the same communities that claim to oppose sprawl are actively creating it. Every time a town imposes another layer of subdivision requirements, increases minimum lot sizes, restricts multifamily housing, or adopts expensive infrastructure standards that exceed state minimums, it pushes development outward. The people do not disappear. The demand for housing does not disappear. Housing simply gets built somewhere else.

There is another consequence of these policies that is often overlooked: they may actually undermine many of the environmental goals they were intended to achieve.

When communities such as Belfast make it extraordinarily difficult or expensive to build housing within existing service centers, development does not stop. It simply moves outward. Instead of constructing housing near jobs, schools, and existing infrastructure, people spread into the countryside.

The result is increased sprawl, longer commutes, and more traffic on secondary roads that were never designed for large volumes of daily commuters. People burn more gasoline driving 20, 30, or even 50 miles each way to work because they can no longer afford to live in the communities where they earn their livelihoods. The environmental impact of thousands of additional vehicle miles traveled every day is rarely included in discussions about housing regulation.

At the same time, we have created a regulatory paradox. In some towns, development proposals are subjected to exhaustive reviews involving traffic studies, stormwater reports, subdivision standards, and layers of local and state oversight. Yet in many rural areas, individual homes can often be built with relatively little scrutiny because they fall below the thresholds that trigger subdivision review.

This means we may be overregulating compact development while underregulating dispersed development. Instead of encouraging housing where roads, schools, emergency services, water, sewer, and employment already exist, our policies incentivize leapfrog development into rural landscapes.

The irony is that this approach can result in greater environmental impacts. Fragmented development consumes more land per household, extends infrastructure farther into the countryside, increases dependence on automobiles, and can place new pressure on wetlands and wildlife habitat through the cumulative effects of scattered development.

This stands in contrast to the traditional European planning model. In many European countries, communities have historically embraced higher-density development within villages and urban areas while maintaining strong protections for agricultural land and open countryside. Growth is directed toward existing population centers, allowing people to live closer to work, services, and one another while preserving larger contiguous rural landscapes.

Maine often attempts the opposite. We place substantial restrictions on adding housing within established communities, where infrastructure already exists, while inadvertently encouraging lower-density growth farther from employment centers. The outcome is more traffic, greater energy consumption, higher infrastructure costs, and the gradual erosion of the very rural character many regulations were designed to protect.

In my own community, there are roughly 1,300 pages of regulations governing the construction of a home. At the same time, the town is losing population. The state’s population is growing, yet local schools are shrinking toward collapse. Median home prices continue to rise, while each year additional regulations are adopted that further increase costs and restrict supply. The result is a slow but steady gentrification of communities that once supported people from a broad range of incomes.

Longtime residents are also paying the price. Property taxes continue to rise, forcing homeowners—particularly seniors on fixed incomes—to consider selling homes that have been in their families for generations. Coastal communities increasingly become places where only the wealthy can afford to live.

We should ask ourselves whether this is the future we want for Maine.

Property rights have always carried responsibilities, but they should also carry freedoms. At what point do taxes and regulations cease to serve the public interest and instead begin extracting wealth from homeowners and excluding working families from the communities they helped build?

If Maine is serious about addressing its housing shortage, reducing sprawl, preserving working waterfront communities, and retaining young families, then we must be willing to rethink the policies that created these problems. We need to simplify subdivision review, reduce unnecessary regulatory costs, expand by-right development opportunities, limit exclusionary zoning practices, and restore the ability of ordinary landowners and small builders to create housing.

The choice is not between development and conservation. Good planning recognizes that the two can work together. By allowing communities to grow intelligently where growth already belongs, we can better protect both Maine’s workforce and Maine’s landscape.

The people of Maine do not lack the willingness to build. The question is whether government will finally allow them to.

Forty years ago, Maine rejected the Big A hydro project because electricity was inexpensive, reserve margins were large, and the New England grid was dominated by heavy synchronous thermal generation with enormous rotational inertia. The electrical system of 1985 could tolerate instability because it was massively overbuilt with spinning steel.

The grid we are building today is fundamentally different.

Modern energy policy discussions obsess over megawatt-hours while largely ignoring the actual physics that make alternating current transmission systems stable in the first place. The grid is not simply an energy delivery system. It is a synchronized electromechanical machine operating at precisely 60 Hz across thousands of miles of transmission infrastructure.

The entire system survives because of inertia.

The kinetic energy stored in a synchronous generator rotor depends on the machine’s rotational inertia and rotational speed.

A large hydroelectric turbine spinning at synchronous speed stores massive amounts of energy mechanically in rotating mass. When generation suddenly falls short of load — for example, when 1,500 MW of solar output collapses during cloud transients or sunset ramps — grid frequency immediately begins to decline according to the swing equation:

The rate of frequency decline depends on the balance between mechanical input power and electrical output power, as well as the amount of inertia available on the system.

This equation is the foundation of grid stability physics.

A synchronous hydro generator inherently resists rapid frequency collapse because the rotating turbine physically releases stored kinetic energy into the electrical system during transient imbalance events. Solar inverters do not naturally provide this behavior because they contain almost no rotating mass. Their output is electronically synthesized through switching electronics, not electromechanical coupling.

This distinction becomes critical at high renewable penetration levels.

A modern utility-scale solar facility may inject hundreds of megawatts into the grid while contributing effectively zero physical inertia. As conventional thermal plants retire, the aggregate system inertia of ISO New England declines. Lower inertia means higher Rate of Change of Frequency (RoCoF) during disturbances:

As system inertia falls, even relatively small generation imbalances produce much faster frequency excursions. Protection systems begin tripping generation and transmission assets to protect equipment from instability. Cascading outages become increasingly likely.

This is why grid operators across the world are suddenly paying enormous sums for synchronous condensers, spinning reserve contracts, fast-ramping thermal generation, and synthetic inertia systems.

The irony is that a 100 MW synchronous hydro plant like the Big A would dramatically increase Maine’s ability to support solar generation safely.

A hydro unit connected to the transmission system provides multiple services simultaneously:

Real power (MW)

Reactive power support (MVAr)

Fault current contribution

Voltage regulation

Frequency stabilization

Dynamic damping

Spinning reserve

Black-start capability

Short-circuit strength

The reactive power capability alone is enormously valuable on weak northern transmission corridors. Voltage regulation on AC grids depends heavily on reactive power balance.

Long transmission lines connected to inverter-heavy renewable systems often experience unstable voltage profiles because inverters have limited overload capability and weaker fault response characteristics than synchronous machines.

Hydro generators naturally absorb and supply reactive power dynamically through excitation control systems. That stabilizes voltage during disturbances and improves transmission efficiency.

The economic implications are substantial.

Right now New England increasingly experiences pricing extremes caused by intermittent generation. During sunny low-demand periods, solar oversupply drives wholesale pricing toward zero or even negative values. After sunset, grid operators must rapidly ramp thermal generation to replace collapsing solar output. Those rapid ramp events are thermodynamically inefficient and mechanically destructive for gas turbines.

Combined-cycle thermal plants operate most efficiently at stable steady-state thermal equilibrium. Frequent ramping introduces heat-rate degradation, thermal fatigue stress, combustion instability, and maintenance acceleration. Consumers ultimately pay for all of it through capacity markets, ancillary service costs, congestion pricing, and fuel volatility.

A 100 MW hydroelectric synchronous machine behaves differently.

Hydro turbines can ramp output rapidly without combustion delay or thermal stress. They can absorb renewable variability while maintaining stable synchronous operation. During periods of solar oversupply, hydro output can decrease. During evening ramps, output can rise almost instantly while simultaneously supporting frequency and voltage stability.

This effectively converts intermittent renewable generation into a far more dispatchable and grid-compatible resource.

The value of the Big A therefore extends far beyond its annual energy production. Its real strategic value is that it would increase the carrying capacity of Maine’s renewable infrastructure while reducing instability costs imposed on the broader ISO New England system.

That matters enormously for industrial consumers.

Paper mills, data centers, manufacturing facilities, semiconductor operations, refrigeration infrastructure, and high-density commercial loads do not merely require electricity. They require stable frequency, low harmonic distortion, strong voltage support, and predictable pricing. Weak unstable grids repel industry. Strong synchronous grids attract investment.

This is the reality many modern energy discussions avoid: the more intermittent generation you deploy, the more valuable synchronous generation becomes.

Hydro is not simply renewable generation.

It is rotating electromechanical infrastructure that physically stabilizes the entire power system.

Forty years ago, Maine rejected the Big A because the grid did not need it.

Today, the grid physics suggest exactly the opposite.

Yet despite the City’s own data, the political conversation continues drifting toward more restrictions, more regulation, more bureaucracy, and more hostility toward property owners and housing investment. This is exactly the kind of thinking Chuck Marohn and Strong Towns warn about: cities trying to regulate scarcity into abundance. It does not work. It has never worked.

Housing is expensive in Belfast because building housing in Belfast has become financially punishing and politically risky. Layered zoning restrictions, infrastructure requirements, discussions around rent control, and threats of STR bans all combine to create one message to investors and lenders: take your money somewhere else.

NIMBY politics are a major part of the problem. Planning boards and neighborhood opposition groups routinely focus on “neighborhood character,” open space mandates, parking mandates, sidewalks, setbacks, landscaping requirements, density limits, and visual concerns while ignoring the economic reality that every added requirement raises the cost of housing. Sidewalk mandates alone can add tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars to a small subdivision. Open space requirements reduce the number of buildable lots while still forcing the developer to carry the same road, engineering, stormwater, and infrastructure costs. Those costs do not disappear. They get divided across fewer units, dramatically increasing the cost per house.

Small investors are not giant Wall Street corporations. They are often local tradesmen, retirees, families, and working people trying to finance duplexes, accessory units, renovations, or small apartment projects. Banks already view housing projects in Maine as high risk because construction costs, taxes, insurance, and interest rates are all extremely high. STR flexibility acts as a financial safety valve. If a long-term tenant leaves, the owner has the ability to short-term rent the unit temporarily to keep paying the mortgage, taxes, insurance, and maintenance. Banks understand this. Remove that safety net and the project becomes less financeable overnight.

That means fewer loans get approved. Fewer projects get built. Less capital flows into housing. Existing landlords become more conservative. Investors move to communities with fewer political risks. The end result is exactly what Belfast claims to oppose: less housing supply and higher prices.

You cannot regulate scarcity into abundance. Every regulation that reduces the economic viability of housing construction reduces housing production. When supply growth slows while demand continues, prices rise. That is basic economics, not ideology.

If Belfast actually wants lower housing costs, the solution is the exact opposite direction from where current policy discussions are headed. Reduce zoning restrictions. Reduce minimum lot sizes. Reduce parking mandates. Reduce setbacks. Reduce mandatory open space requirements. Stop requiring infrastructure upgrades that make small projects financially impossible. Reduce permitting costs that can easily exceed $5,000 per house before construction even begins. Reduce the hundreds of pages of housing and land-use regulations that small builders are expected to navigate. Make smaller projects legal. Make incremental development possible again.

Right now, Belfast has created an environment where small-scale housing construction is treated almost like a hostile activity. Every additional ordinance, every new requirement, every concession to NIMBY complaints about “character,” traffic, aesthetics, or density adds uncertainty and cost. Large national developers may absorb that risk. Local builders and working families cannot.

The real-world evidence is already clear. New York City heavily restricted Airbnb and short-term rentals in 2023, yet rents continued climbing and vacancy rates remained near historic lows. Vancouver implemented some of the strictest STR rules in North America, yet home prices and rents remained among the highest on the continent. Restricting STRs did not solve the underlying problem because the underlying problem was insufficient housing supply and excessive barriers to construction.

Belfast’s own memo points to the actual issue: approximately 10% of the city’s housing stock consists of second homes sitting unused, not STRs. Even then, the deeper issue is that Belfast has made housing development extraordinarily difficult relative to demand. The city continues adding process, mandates, uncertainty, and political risk while wondering why builders are not flooding into the market.

Young working families pay the price for this failure. Not wealthy retirees. Not established homeowners whose property values continue climbing. The people harmed most are younger residents trying to buy their first home, tradespeople trying to stay local, renters competing over limited inventory, and working families watching housing drift permanently out of reach.

Cities do not create abundant housing markets through enforcement, registries, restrictions, and hostility toward investment. They create abundance by making housing legal, predictable, financeable, and easy enough to build that ordinary local people are willing to risk their capital again.

In states like Maine, politicians, planners, and activists spend enormous amounts of time talking about sustainability, smart growth, protecting neighborhood character, and environmental preservation while some families are living in campers heated by wood stoves because they cannot afford housing.

At the same time, every year it becomes harder, slower, riskier, and more expensive to build homes.

A lot of people dismiss the phrase “housing builds itself when the government gets out of the way” as overly simplistic. But underneath it is a very real economic truth: housing shortages are often created by systems that make it extremely difficult to legally build housing in the places where people actually want and need to live.

Modern housing development is increasingly shaped by layers of bureaucracy:

• zoning restrictions

• planning board approvals

• environmental reviews

• parking mandates

• setback requirements

• minimum lot sizes

• density caps

• permitting delays

• legal appeals

• public hearings

• neighborhood opposition

Every requirement adds cost. Every delay adds risk. Every hearing creates another opportunity for projects to be reduced, delayed, or killed entirely.

The result is predictable. Less housing gets built.

One of the biggest drivers of the crisis — and one of the least honestly discussed — is zoning itself.

Modern zoning laws dramatically reduce the amount of land that can legally be built on, especially land connected to existing infrastructure like roads, sewer systems, water lines, schools, hospitals, and employment centers.

That artificial scarcity drives land prices upward.

In many towns and suburbs, enormous portions of land are zoned only for large single-family homes on large lots. Minimum lot size requirements of one acre, two acres, or more are common. These rules are usually defended as preserving rural character, reducing density, or protecting the environment.

But economically, they function as a supply restriction system.

If ten acres of land near existing infrastructure can only legally support eight homes because of large lot zoning, then the underlying cost of the land attached to each house becomes extremely expensive. If smaller lots, duplexes, accessory dwelling units, or clustered housing were allowed, that same land could support far more homes using less infrastructure per resident.

Large minimum lot zoning goes against almost every principle of efficiency.

It creates:

• more road frontage per home

• more pavement

• more pipe and utility infrastructure

• larger heating and cooling loads

• longer driveways

• more vehicle dependency

• higher municipal maintenance costs

• larger service areas for EMS and schools

• more gasoline consumption

• more sprawl

And that sprawl is almost never honestly accounted for during planning debates.

Ironically, many policies created in the name of environmental protection may actually worsen environmental outcomes overall.

When building inside cities and towns becomes financially impossible because of zoning and regulation, builders naturally move outward into rural areas where land is cheaper and oversight is lighter. Families then become dependent on long commutes and automobiles because housing near jobs and infrastructure is either unavailable or unaffordable.

This creates fragmented forests, scattered development, higher road costs, expanded utility systems, and greater fossil fuel consumption.

Meanwhile, planning boards often focus intensely on protecting tiny isolated wetlands or limiting density inside town limits while ignoring the much larger regional environmental impact caused by forcing development outward.

Compact housing near infrastructure is almost always more environmentally efficient than low-density sprawl.

Yet many communities effectively prohibit compact development through zoning.

There is also a political reality that many people are uncomfortable discussing openly.

Existing homeowners benefit financially from housing scarcity because scarcity increases property values. Restrictive zoning protects that scarcity. Municipal governments also become dependent on high property valuations to support budgets and tax revenue.

Meanwhile, younger generations are increasingly locked out of homeownership entirely.

The people most harmed are not wealthy homeowners. The people harmed are:

• young families

• renters

• first-time homebuyers

• tradespeople

• teachers

• working-class residents

• lower middle-class households

In places like Maine, the housing crisis is now feeding a labor crisis. Young workers cannot afford homes, so they leave. Fewer young workers means fewer carpenters, electricians, plumbers, mechanics, and equipment operators. That labor shortage increases construction costs even further, which makes housing even more expensive to build.

The cycle feeds itself.

None of this means there should be no environmental protection or no planning oversight. Poorly designed development can absolutely create flooding problems, unsafe roads, failing septic systems, and infrastructure strain.

But there is a major difference between responsible planning and using bureaucracy as a permanent barrier to growth.

Right now, many communities are confusing preservation with sustainability.

Housing policy increasingly reflects the priorities of people who already own property rather than the needs of people trying to build a life.

At some point, communities have to decide whether housing is primarily shelter for working families or an investment vehicle protected by artificial scarcity.

Data centers are some of the cleanest industry you can bring in. No smokestacks, no direct emissions. The water use gets exaggerated— the project in Jay is expected to use a tiny fraction of what the old mill used, under 1%. With closed loop cooling, noise is also a fraction of what that site used to be.

They’re even looking at generating their own power, and there’s already a hydro dam on site. That’s an opportunity, not a problem.

Meanwhile nobody talks about how much electricity cannabis grow facilities use. Per square foot they can be some of the most energy intensive operations out there, and they don’t exactly build a long-term industrial base.

We used to be an industrial state. Nobody wants the pollution back, but this isn’t that. Data centers are modern, highly engineered, and clean. They bring high-paying engineering, electrical, and technical jobs. You’ve got Maine Maritime grads working in these facilities all over the country. Why wouldn’t we want that here?

Instead of pushing companies away with moratoriums, we should be partnering with them. Build generation alongside them, upgrade the grid, bring in investment.

Trying to tax our way out of economic decline hasn’t worked anywhere. Attracting capital and building industry has.

Maine says it needs something like 80,000 new housing units. That’s a big number, but it’s not going to come from a handful of large developments. It’s going to come from smaller projects, a few lots at a time, in places that already have roads and infrastructure. That’s where the system is breaking down.

After talking about administrative review the other night, I spent some time looking into how subdivision law actually works in Maine. The state does require subdivisions to be reviewed. You still have to meet the basic criteria around water, septic, traffic, and drainage. That part isn’t going away. What stood out is that the state doesn’t really dictate how towns have to run the review process. That part is mostly left to the municipalities.

That means towns can choose to make the process straightforward and predictable, or they can make it slow, expensive, and easy to derail. A lot of the time, we’ve ended up with the latter.

A simple subdivision with a handful of lots should not be a major undertaking. These are the kinds of projects that fit into existing neighborhoods and don’t require major infrastructure. They are the kinds of projects that actually move the needle on housing. Instead, they often get pulled into multiple planning board meetings, open-ended public comment, and repeated delays that drive up cost and uncertainty.

Anyone who has been to one of these meetings knows how it goes. A small group of people, usually already comfortably housed, show up to oppose the project. Sometimes the concerns are framed around traffic or drainage, sometimes around neighborhood character. Occasionally those concerns are legitimate, but often they are not tied directly to the criteria the board is supposed to use. The result is that people who already have housing are making it harder for someone else to get it.

If Maine is serious about building 80,000 units, this is something that needs to be addressed. There is a practical way to do it without lowering standards. The state criteria would still apply, and projects would still need to meet them. The change would be in how smaller projects are reviewed.

One option would be to define a minor subdivision as something under 15 lots and under 30 acres and allow those to go through administrative review by staff rather than a full planning board process. There would still be a written record and a path for appeal, but it would remove a lot of the time and friction for straightforward projects that meet the rules.

There are towns in Maine that have very limited subdivision review processes, and in some cases no active planning board at all, and subdivisions are still legal and happening there. That suggests the issue is not the law itself but how it is being implemented locally.

Larger and more complex projects should continue to receive full review. That is appropriate. But treating a small infill subdivision the same as a large development does not make sense and is part of what is slowing things down.

If the goal is to actually increase housing, the focus needs to shift. The standards can stay in place, but the process needs to work. Right now, too many small projects are getting stuck in a system that makes them difficult to complete. If that continues, the housing we say we want is not going to get built.

Maine says it needs something like 80,000 new housing units. That’s a big number, but it’s not going to come from a handful of large developments. It’s going to come from smaller projects, a few lots at a time, in places that already have roads and infrastructure. That’s where the system is breaking down.

After talking about administrative review the other night, I spent some time looking into how subdivision law actually works in Maine. The state does require subdivisions to be reviewed. You still have to meet the basic criteria around water, septic, traffic, and drainage. That part isn’t going away. What stood out is that the state doesn’t really dictate how towns have to run the review process. That part is mostly left to the municipalities.

That means towns can choose to make the process straightforward and predictable, or they can make it slow, expensive, and easy to derail. A lot of the time, we’ve ended up with the latter.

A simple subdivision with a handful of lots should not be a major undertaking. These are the kinds of projects that fit into existing neighborhoods and don’t require major infrastructure. They are the kinds of projects that actually move the needle on housing. Instead, they often get pulled into multiple planning board meetings, open-ended public comment, and repeated delays that drive up cost and uncertainty.

Anyone who has been to one of these meetings knows how it goes. A small group of people, usually already comfortably housed, show up to oppose the project. Sometimes the concerns are framed around traffic or drainage, sometimes around neighborhood character. Occasionally those concerns are legitimate, but often they are not tied directly to the criteria the board is supposed to use. The result is that people who already have housing are making it harder for someone else to get it.

If Maine is serious about building 80,000 units, this is something that needs to be addressed. There is a practical way to do it without lowering standards. The state criteria would still apply, and projects would still need to meet them. The change would be in how smaller projects are reviewed.

One option would be to define a minor subdivision as something under 15 lots and under 30 acres and allow those to go through administrative review by staff rather than a full planning board process. There would still be a written record and a path for appeal, but it would remove a lot of the time and friction for straightforward projects that meet the rules.

There are towns in Maine that have very limited subdivision review processes, and in some cases no active planning board at all, and subdivisions are still legal and happening there. That suggests the issue is not the law itself but how it is being implemented locally.

Larger and more complex projects should continue to receive full review. That is appropriate. But treating a small infill subdivision the same as a large development does not make sense and is part of what is slowing things down.

If the goal is to actually increase housing, the focus needs to shift. The standards can stay in place, but the process needs to work. Right now, too many small projects are getting stuck in a system that makes them difficult to complete. If that continues, the housing we say we want is not going to get built.

Last night I attended a planning board meeting in Winterport, Maine. A local builder—someone who lives and works in the community—proposed a modest six-lot subdivision in a rural area.

The room was packed. Around forty people showed up.

What followed wasn’t a thoughtful discussion about land use, housing needs, or community planning. It was something else entirely—a case study in why using public comment as a primary tool for shaping housing policy simply doesn’t work.

The Problem with Who Shows Up

Public meetings are often framed as democratic forums. In theory, they give everyone a voice.

In practice, they don’t.

The people most likely to attend a planning board meeting are those who oppose a project. Supporters—future residents, young families, people priced out of the market—are almost never in the room. They’re at work, at home with kids, or simply unaware the meeting is happening.

What you get instead is a highly motivated, highly organized subset of the population. And when that group gathers in a room together, something predictable happens: the conversation intensifies, positions harden, and opposition feeds on itself.

The Mechanics of Escalation

At the Winterport meeting, the planning board made a clear effort to run an organized process. Public comment was allowed and structured.

But structure alone doesn’t solve the underlying issue.

Several individuals spoke multiple times—five or six times in some cases—repeating and reinforcing the same objections. Each new comment didn’t add information so much as amplify sentiment.

Others attempted to reinterpret the town ordinance on the fly, effectively turning public comment into a kind of ad hoc legal argument. In one instance, a hydrogeologic study was claimed to be required. When the actual ordinance language was reviewed, it was clear that it was not required for this property.

Most concerning, one attendee circulated a modified version of the ordinance—altered in a way that supported their argument. It was presented as if it were the official text.

This is not a criticism of any one individual. It’s a structural problem. When policy interpretation is crowdsourced in real time, accuracy becomes optional and narratives can outpace facts.

The “Wetlands” Playbook

If you attend enough of these meetings, patterns emerge.

One of the most common is the use of environmental concerns—especially wetlands—as a universal objection. In Maine, where we receive significant annual rainfall and deal with complex watershed conditions, nearly every existing home, road, and driveway has some level of environmental impact.

Yet at public hearings, these realities are often ignored. Wetlands become less a technical issue and more a rhetorical tool—something to raise when other arguments aren’t gaining traction.

Again, this isn’t about dismissing legitimate environmental concerns. It’s about recognizing when those concerns are being used inconsistently or selectively to block projects that otherwise meet established standards.

The Role of the Planning Board

To their credit, the Winterport Planning Board stayed grounded.

They repeatedly brought the discussion back to the ordinance. They clarified that the application met the required standards. They resisted attempts to shift the criteria mid-meeting.

That’s exactly what they’re supposed to do.

Planning boards are not there to measure the volume of opposition in a room. They are there to apply the rules that the town has already adopted—consistently, fairly, and predictably.

When that principle erodes, so does the entire framework of land use planning.

The Larger Consequence

Maine, like much of the country, has a housing shortage.

We talk about it constantly—rising prices, limited supply, young people leaving, workforce constraints. And yet, when small, reasonable housing projects are proposed, the process they enter is often unpredictable, adversarial, and driven by those most resistant to change.

This creates a chilling effect.

Small builders—the people who actually produce housing in communities like Winterport—don’t have the resources to navigate endless hearings, shifting interpretations, and organized opposition. Over time, fewer projects are proposed, fewer homes are built, and the shortage deepens.

A Better Way Forward

Public input matters. It should absolutely be part of the process.

But it should not be the process.

If a town wants to shape its future, it should do so through:

- Clear, well-written ordinances

- Comprehensive planning

- Transparent, predictable standards

Public comment should inform those frameworks—not override them on a case-by-case basis.

Because when housing policy is effectively decided by whoever shows up on a given night, it stops being policy at all.

It becomes something closer to improvisation.

And as Winterport demonstrated, that’s not a system that produces good outcomes.

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If we are serious about addressing housing in Maine, we need to move beyond the idea that public comment meetings can carry that weight.

They can’t.

And pretending otherwise is a failed experiment we can no longer afford.

I spent 27 years working as an engineer in the oil and gas industry, one of the most heavily regulated industries in the world.

Over the past three years I’ve been working on housing development in Maine, and something has surprised me.

Housing construction is more regulated than almost anything I’ve ever worked on.

Between federal rules, state building codes, electrical and plumbing codes, fire safety rules, energy standards, engineering requirements, environmental regulations, and local zoning ordinances, a typical housing project is governed by roughly 7,000–12,000 pages of regulations.

Most people assume these rules exist to protect the public.

But there is a side effect people rarely talk about.

These rules systematically price out the very people who most need housing.

Every added requirement — whether it’s minimum lot sizes, expensive energy mandates, parking requirements, accessibility standards written for large commercial buildings, or layers of environmental permitting — increases the cost of construction.

Developers don’t absorb those costs.

They get passed directly into higher rents and higher home prices.

The people who can still afford housing under those conditions are typically wealthier households.

The people who get locked out are:

• Young working families trying to buy their first home

• Lower-income workers

• People with mild disabilities who could otherwise live independently

• People just starting out in life

But the damage doesn’t stop there.

The same policies are also squeezing retirees who already own homes.

Many older residents in Maine bought their homes decades ago and now live on fixed incomes while dealing with rising inflation. When housing supply is constrained and new homes aren’t being built, prices rise across the entire market — which means property taxes rise as well.

That’s exactly what we’re seeing in places like Belfast.

When regulations make it difficult or expensive to build new housing, supply stays limited while demand continues to grow. The result is predictable: home values rise and property taxes follow.

That puts increasing pressure on retirees who simply want to stay in the homes they’ve lived in for years.

Ironically, many of the policies passed in the name of compassion or fairness end up functioning like an invisible barrier to entry.

They make housing more expensive, reduce supply, and leave fewer options available for people with modest incomes.

The result is something few policymakers are willing to acknowledge:

A regulatory system that was intended to protect people is increasingly working against them.

It locks young families out of homeownership, limits independent living for people with disabilities, and even threatens the ability of retirees to remain in their own homes.

And when housing becomes unaffordable, the consequences show up everywhere — rising rents, rising property taxes, and people unable to find or keep a place to live.

If we want to solve the housing shortage, we have to be honest about something uncomfortable.

The biggest barriers to housing today are often not land, materials, or labor.

They are the layers of regulation we have built over decades, usually with good intentions but with consequences that fall hardest on those with the least resources.

Until we start talking honestly about that, the housing crisis will continue.

How Short Political Cycles Collide With Long-Lived Energy Systems (A Maine Perspective)

Energy infrastructure is built on timescales that are fundamentally incompatible with modern politics.

Power plants, transmission lines, dams, pipelines, and substations are designed to operate for 30, 50, even 100 years. Political cycles, by contrast, operate on two- to four-year horizons. Public narratives shift even faster.

This mismatch drives many of the structural problems now visible in electricity systems—particularly in Maine and the broader New England grid, where winter reliability and fuel security punish short-term thinking.

Energy Systems Are Capital, Not Consumables

A power plant is not an app. A transmission corridor is not a subscription.

Energy infrastructure is:

• Capital-intensive

• Long-lived

• Difficult to modify once built

• Extremely sensitive to regulatory uncertainty

Once a major energy asset is committed, it locks in:

• Operating costs

• Reliability characteristics

• Environmental tradeoffs

• Grid behavior

For decades.

This is why energy planning mistakes persist long after the political context that created them has disappeared.

Build Time vs Asset Life: The First Mismatch

Consider typical timelines:

• Nuclear: 10–20 years to permit and build, 60–80 years of operation

• Hydro: 8–15 years to build, 80–100+ years of operation

• Gas: 3–6 years to build, 30–40 years of operation

• Wind: 1–3 years to build, 20–25 years of operation

• Solar: 1–2 years to build, 20–30 years of operation

Short build times are politically attractive. Long asset lives are systemically valuable.

In Maine, this tension shows up repeatedly: fast-to-build projects receive priority, while long-lived infrastructure struggles to survive permitting and public opposition.

The Illusion of Flexibility

Fast projects are often sold as “flexible.”

But flexibility during construction is not the same as flexibility during operation.

Wind and solar:

• Are easy to install

• Hard to integrate at scale

Nuclear and hydro:

• Are hard to build

• Easy to operate once online

The grid ultimately cares about operational behavior, not construction speed.

Capital Risk: The Real Decision Driver

Investors price risk before ideology.

The biggest risk factors in energy projects are:

• Regulatory change

• Permitting uncertainty

• Legal challenges

• Policy reversals

In Maine and New England:

• Transmission projects face years of litigation

• Pipeline expansions are politically blocked

• Long-term generation investments face uncertain market rules

As a result:

• Capital flows to shorter projects

• Long-lived assets struggle to secure financing

• The system becomes fragmented and reactive

This is not because investors dislike reliability. It’s because reliability is hard to monetize under unstable rules.

The Regulatory Asymmetry Problem

One of the least discussed distortions in energy planning is regulatory asymmetry.

Some technologies:

• Face intense, front-loaded scrutiny

• Require decades-long commitments

• Are exposed to mid-project rule changes

Others:

• Are lightly regulated

• Can be deployed incrementally

• Can exit the market quickly

This asymmetry:

• Skews investment decisions

• Biases planning toward short-term solutions

• Penalizes technologies that would improve long-term stability

In Maine, this is visible in the contrast between:

• Rapid renewable approvals

• Protracted transmission and firm-capacity debates

Asset Life vs Political Credit

Politicians are rewarded for:

• Announcements

• Groundbreakings

• Ribbon cuttings

They are rarely rewarded for:

• Assets that quietly perform for 40 years

• Infrastructure that prevents problems rather than solves crises

Baseload infrastructure is invisible when it works.

This creates a bias toward projects that:

• Look good quickly

• Can be pointed to within a term

• Shift long-term costs out of view

Maine’s grid planning increasingly reflects this dynamic.

Stranded Risk and Deferred Costs

When systems are built around short-lived assets:

• Replacement cycles accelerate

• Capital costs repeat

• Long-term optimization is impossible

Wind and solar may be replaced every 20–30 years. Batteries every 10–15 years.

Compare that to:

• Hydro turbines refurbished after 50 years

• Nuclear plants extended to 80 years

Shorter lifetimes are not inherently bad—but they demand continuous reinvestment.

That reinvestment shows up in rates.

Maine’s Winter Constraint Makes Short-Term Thinking Expensive

Maine’s grid has a defining feature:

• Winter-peaking demand

This amplifies the consequences of:

• Seasonal mismatch

• Fuel insecurity

• Overreliance on weather-dependent resources

Short-term solutions that look acceptable in summer reveal their weakness in February.

This is why Maine continues to rely on:

• Oil

• Biomass

• Imports

Despite long-term decarbonization goals.

Why Speed Wins Even When It Shouldn’t

The system rewards:

• Fast deployment

• Modular projects

• Politically safe investments

Even when:

• They add complexity

• They increase system cost

• They reduce reliability margins

This is not corruption. It is incentive design.

When decision-makers are insulated from long-term consequences, short-term solutions dominate.

The Core Takeaway

Energy systems punish impatience.

Assets built quickly but poorly matched to system needs:

• Require more backup

• Demand more redundancy

• Increase long-term costs

Assets that take longer to build but align with grid physics:

• Reduce complexity

• Improve stability

• Lower lifetime system cost

In Maine and New England, winter reliability ensures that these tradeoffs cannot be ignored forever.

The Larger Lesson

You can:

• Accelerate construction

• Delay consequences

But you cannot:

• Compress physics

• Shorten winter

• Eliminate peak demand

Fast is politically attractive. Smart is systemically durable.

They are rarely the same thing.

Coming Up in Part XII

Physics Always Collects the Bill The concluding piece that pulls together baseload, intermittency, cost, risk, and reality—and explains what honest energy planning actually looks like.

Why “Cheap Energy” and “Cheap Electricity” Are Not the Same Thing—Especially in Maine

By the time most energy debates reach the public, the discussion has already narrowed to a single number:

cost per kilowatt-hour.

This number is usually presented as:

• Levelized Cost of Energy (LCOE)

• Marginal generation cost

• Bid price into a market

It is neat. It is comparable. And on its own, it is deeply misleading.

Electricity is not priced by what it costs to generate on average. It is priced by what it costs to keep the system reliable under worst-case conditions.

That distinction explains almost every surprise people experience when their electric bills rise while being told power is getting cheaper.

LCOE: Useful, Incomplete, and Often Abused

LCOE answers a narrow question:

“What does it cost to produce a unit of energy from this generator over its lifetime?”

It does not answer:

• What it costs to keep the grid stable

• What it costs to meet peak demand

• What it costs to survive winter cold snaps

• What it costs to back up intermittency

For baseload-capable plants (nuclear, hydro, fossil thermal), LCOE is at least directionally meaningful—because those plants provide energy and reliability.

For intermittent sources, LCOE captures energy production only, while excluding the cost of everything required to make that energy usable.

Capacity Is the First Hidden Cost

Maine’s grid, like the rest of New England, must be built to meet:

• The coldest winter morning

• With minimal wind

• With little or no solar

• Under fuel constraints

That means full dispatchable capacity must still exist, regardless of how much wind or solar is installed.

If you add 1,000 MW of wind or solar:

• You do not remove 1,000 MW of gas, oil, or biomass

• You remove little or nothing at all

The capital cost of that dispatchable capacity remains. The staffing remains. The maintenance remains. The fuel contracts remain.

This is the first place the “cheap energy” narrative breaks.

Inefficiency Is the Second Hidden Cost

As discussed in Part VI, dispatchable plants—especially natural gas—are increasingly forced to operate outside their design assumptions.

In Maine and New England:

• Gas plants cycle frequently

• Combined-cycle efficiency collapses

• Fuel burn per MWh increases

The system pays twice:

1. For renewable generation

2. For inefficient backup generation

This inefficiency is not theoretical. It is embedded in winter operations and reflected in regional price spikes tracked by ISO New England.

Transmission: The Cost Nobody Wants to Own

Wind and solar are rarely located where electricity is consumed.

In Maine:

• Onshore wind is remote

• Offshore wind is distant

• Large solar is often rural

This requires:

• New transmission corridors

• Substation upgrades

• Grid reinforcement

Transmission projects:

• Cost billions

• Take a decade or more

• Face intense local opposition

These costs are socialized across ratepayers, not charged to individual generators. They do not appear in LCOE.

But they are paid every month.

Curtailment: Paying for Energy You Don’t Use

As intermittent generation grows, so does curtailment.

Curtailment occurs when:

• Generation exceeds demand

• The grid cannot absorb additional power

• Prices fall to zero or negative

In these conditions:

• Wind and solar are paid (via contracts or credits)

• Energy is thrown away

• Dispatchable plants are forced offline

This undermines:

• Grid economics

• Investment signals

• Reliability margins

Curtailment is not a sign of abundance. It is a sign of mismatch.

Capacity Markets and Reliability Payments

Because energy markets alone cannot sustain reliability, regions like New England rely on:

• Capacity markets

• Reliability must-run contracts

• Reserve payments

These mechanisms exist to keep dispatchable plants alive even when energy prices are suppressed.

They are an admission—quiet but explicit—that:

Energy alone does not pay for reliability.

Maine ratepayers fund these mechanisms whether or not they are aware of them.

Fuel Security: Insurance You Only Notice When It’s Gone

In winter, fuel security dominates cost.

Oil, biomass, and diesel plants:

• Are expensive per MWh

• Are rarely used

• Are critical when needed

Their cost is like insurance:

• You resent paying it

• Until the moment you need it

In Maine, winter reliability planning assumes these resources will be available—even as policy discourages their existence.

That contradiction has a price.

Batteries: Capital Cost Without Capacity Relief

Batteries add:

• Capital cost

• Efficiency losses

• Replacement cycles

They reduce short-term volatility but:

• Do not eliminate peak capacity needs

• Do not cover multi-day events

• Do not reduce fuel security requirements

In accounting terms, batteries are additive, not substitutive.

Why Bills Rise Even When “Costs Fall”

Put all of this together and a pattern emerges:

• Generation costs fall

• System costs rise

• Complexity increases

• Redundancy multiplies

Consumers pay for:

• More infrastructure

• More backup

• More inefficiency

• More risk management

The bill reflects the system, not the slogan.

Maine as a Microcosm

Maine illustrates this clearly:

• High renewable penetration

• Winter peak demand

• Transmission constraints

• Fuel delivery limits

The result is a grid that:

• Looks progressive on paper

• Is expensive to operate in practice

• Depends heavily on unglamorous backup

This is not failure. It is the predictable outcome of ignoring system-level costs.

The Core Takeaway

There is no such thing as cheap electricity without reliable electricity.

Energy sources that:

• Cannot be commanded

• Cannot guarantee availability

• Cannot stabilize frequency

Do not eliminate costs. They relocate them.

Those relocated costs appear as:

• Higher bills

• Market interventions

• Capacity payments

• Emergency measures

Physics does not waive fees. It only defers billing.

Coming Up in Part XI

Timelines, Capital Risk, and Why Fast Is Not Always Smart We’ll examine build times, asset lifetimes, political risk, and why energy decisions optimized for speed often fail over decades.

Why Software Can Connect Power—but Cannot Replace Physics (Especially in Maine)

As wind and solar penetration increases, the response from planners and advocates is often the same:

“We’ll solve the baseload problem with inverters and batteries.”

This sounds reassuring. It is also incomplete.

Inverters and batteries are essential tools in modern power systems. Without them, variable generation could not connect to the grid at all. But essential does not mean sufficient, and connection is not the same as control.

In Maine and New England—where winter reliability defines success—the limits of this approach are already visible.

What Inverters Actually Do (And What They Don’t)

An inverter’s job is to convert electricity from one form to another:

• DC to AC (solar, batteries)

• Variable-frequency AC to fixed-frequency AC (wind)

Modern grid-forming and grid-following inverters can:

• Synthesize 60 Hz power

• Match voltage and phase

• Rapidly adjust output

• Disconnect quickly during faults

These capabilities are impressive.

But they come with hard limits.

What Inverters Cannot Do

• They do not create energy

• They do not store energy (unless paired with batteries)

• They do not provide real rotating inertia

• They do not provide sustained fault current

An inverter is a power adapter, not a power source.

Synthetic Inertia vs Real Inertia

One of the most common claims is that inverters can provide “synthetic inertia.”

What this really means:

• Software detects frequency change

• Control logic adjusts output

• Power electronics respond

This response:

• Is delayed (milliseconds matter)

• Depends on sensors and communications

• Requires stored energy somewhere else

By contrast, real inertia:

• Is instantaneous

• Requires no sensing

• Requires no software

• Exists because steel is already spinning

In a system dominated by synchronous machines, inertia is abundant and automatic. In a system dominated by inverters, inertia must be simulated, and simulation is never free.

Fault Current: The Overlooked Problem

During a grid fault:

• Synchronous generators deliver large fault currents

• Protection systems detect and isolate problems

• The system stabilizes

Inverter-based resources:

• Provide limited fault current

• Often disconnect to protect themselves

• Depend on the grid being healthy to remain online

As inverter penetration rises, protection schemes become:

• More complex

• More fragile

• More dependent on perfect coordination

This is not hypothetical. It is an active engineering challenge in New England.

Batteries: Power Is Not Energy

Batteries are often described as the solution to intermittency. The critical distinction is power vs energy.

Most grid-scale batteries are designed to provide:

• High power

• For short durations (2–4 hours)

Maine’s grid stress events:

• Occur during multi-day winter cold snaps

• Coincide with fuel constraints

• Persist far longer than battery duration

A four-hour battery does not solve a four-day event.

Round-Trip Losses and Degradation

Every time energy passes through a battery:

• Some is lost as heat

• Typically 10–20% round-trip

Over time:

• Battery capacity degrades

• Replacement cycles are required

• Capital costs repeat every 10–15 years

Unlike hydro or thermal plants, batteries do not age gracefully. They depreciate quickly and must be rebuilt repeatedly.

The Maine Winter Reality Check

In Maine, winter reliability exposes the limits of storage-based thinking.

During cold snaps:

• Solar output is minimal

• Wind output is uncertain

• Gas supply is constrained

• Batteries drain quickly

At that point, the grid depends on:

• Hydro

• Biomass

• Oil

• Diesel

• Imports coordinated by ISO New England

Inverters and batteries do not replace these resources. They assume their existence.

The Stack Problem: Costs Add, Capacity Does Not Subtract

One of the most misleading aspects of modern energy planning is the idea that new technologies replace old ones.

In practice, they stack.

A grid with:

• Wind

• Solar

• Batteries

Still requires:

• Full dispatchable capacity

• Full transmission infrastructure

• Full staffing and maintenance

• Full fuel security

Very little can be retired without increasing risk.

This means system cost increases even when marginal energy appears cheap.

Why “100% Renewable” Requires Invisible Machinery

Grids with high inverter penetration still rely on:

• Synchronous condensers

• Spinning reserves

• Gas turbines running lightly loaded

• Diesel backup

These machines provide:

• Inertia

• Fault current

• Voltage control

They are often excluded from public accounting because they don’t produce much energy—but without them, the system fails.

This is not renewable replacement. It is renewable dependence.

Software Cannot Eliminate Failure Modes

In offshore and industrial systems, engineers assume:

• Sensors fail

• Communications fail

• Software fails

That is why critical stability functions are assigned to physics, not code.

As grids move toward inverter dominance, they move stability functions:

• From mechanical systems

• To software systems

That tradeoff increases:

• Complexity

• Cyber risk

• Coordination risk

Again, these costs are real—even if they don’t appear on a power bill line item.

The Core Takeaway

Inverters and batteries are:

• Necessary

• Valuable

• Powerful tools

They are not:

• Baseload power

• Inertia

• Fuel security

• Long-duration energy storage

Calling their output “synthetic baseload” confuses electrical compatibility with system reliability.

The Larger Lesson

You cannot replace:

• Mass with math

• Torque with code

• Energy with optimism

In Maine’s grid—and every other winter-peaking system—reliability still comes from machines that:

• Are already running

• Have fuel

• Have inertia

• Do not depend on perfect conditions

Electronics help the grid function. They do not carry it.

Coming Up in Part X

The All-In Cost of Power: Where the Bill Actually Shows Up We’ll pull everything together—generation, backup, transmission, inefficiency, and risk—and explain why electricity prices rise even when “cheap” energy expands.

Why Maine’s Latitude, Winter, and Grid Shape Matter More Than Panel Prices

Solar power occupies a unique place in energy discussions. Unlike wind, its variability is predictable. The sun rises and sets on schedule. Seasons change slowly. Output can be forecast days in advance.

This predictability is often used to argue that solar is fundamentally different from wind—and therefore easier to integrate.

That argument only works if predictable intermittency is treated as dispatchability.

It isn’t.

In Maine, solar’s limitations are not subtle. They are structural.

The Hard Constraint: Latitude and Winter Reality

Maine sits far enough north that seasonal solar output is profoundly uneven.

In summer:

• Long daylight hours

• High sun angles

• Relatively strong solar output

In winter:

• Short days

• Low sun angles

• Snow cover

• Frequent cloud cover

At the same time, Maine’s electrical demand peaks in winter, not summer.

This creates a fundamental mismatch:

Solar produces the most energy when Maine needs it least—and the least when Maine needs it most.

No amount of panel cost reduction changes that geometry.

Capacity Factor vs Capacity Value

Solar is often evaluated using capacity factor—the percentage of nameplate capacity produced over a year.

That metric is misleading for grid planning.

What matters is capacity value:

• How much power is available during peak demand

• Whether that power can be relied upon

In Maine:

• Winter peak demand often occurs after sunset

• Solar output at those times is zero

• Capacity value approaches zero during stress events

From a reliability standpoint, solar contributes almost nothing to meeting winter peak demand in Maine.

This is not a criticism. It is a planning reality.

Solar Does Not Replace Anything in Maine’s Grid

Because solar cannot contribute meaningfully to winter peaks:

• Dispatchable capacity must still exist

• That capacity must be fully maintained

• That capacity must be staffed and fueled

Solar reduces fuel burn when conditions are favorable. It does not reduce the need for:

• Gas plants

• Oil plants

• Biomass plants

• Hydro imports

• Diesel backup

The grid must still be built for the worst hour of the worst day.

The Snow Problem Nobody Likes to Discuss

Solar performance assumptions often ignore snow.

In Maine:

• Snow cover is frequent in winter

• Panels can be obscured for days or weeks

• Clearing panels at utility scale is labor-intensive and expensive

During exactly the periods when the grid is most stressed, solar availability can drop to near zero—even during daylight hours.

This further erodes solar’s capacity value.

Inverters: Necessary, but Not a Solution

Solar produces DC power. The grid requires fixed-frequency AC.

That conversion is handled by inverters, which:

• Synthesize 60 Hz power

• Match voltage and phase

• Disconnect quickly during disturbances

Inverter-based systems:

• Provide no physical inertia

• Provide limited fault current

• Depend on a stable grid reference

As solar penetration increases, the grid becomes:

• More sensitive to disturbances

• More dependent on synchronous machines elsewhere

In Maine, that stability typically comes from:

• Hydro

• Biomass

• Gas

• Oil

• Imports managed through ISO New England

Solar does not reduce the need for those sources.

The Midday Surplus Problem

Even in Maine, solar creates midday surpluses during shoulder seasons.

This leads to:

• Curtailment

• Negative pricing in some markets

• Reduced revenue for generators

Paradoxically, this can:

• Increase system cost

• Undermine dispatchable plants

• Reduce reliability margins

The grid cannot store excess solar energy at scale without massive investment in storage—which introduces its own losses and costs.

Batteries: Short Duration, High Cost

Batteries are often presented as the missing link for solar.

In practice:

• Most grid batteries provide 2–4 hours of discharge

• Winter peaks can last days

• Round-trip losses are significant

• Battery lifetimes are limited

In Maine, batteries can:

• Smooth short-term fluctuations

• Shift some midday energy to evening

They cannot:

• Cover multi-day winter cold snaps

• Replace dispatchable generation

• Eliminate fuel security requirements

Batteries add cost and complexity. They do not eliminate baseload needs.

Transmission: Solar Is Not Local Power

Large solar installations in Maine are often:

• Located far from load centers

• Dependent on long transmission lines

Transmission expansion:

• Is expensive

• Takes years to permit

• Faces local opposition

Those costs are rarely attributed to solar projects—but they are required for integration.

The Financial Accounting Gap

Solar is often described as “cheap” because:

• Panels are inexpensive

• Fuel cost is zero

• Operating costs are low

What is often excluded:

• Backup generation cost

• Grid reinforcement

• Curtailment losses

• Inverter replacement cycles

• Battery systems

When these are included, solar’s all-in system cost rises sharply—especially in northern, winter-peaking grids like Maine’s.

Why Solar Still Exists in Maine

Despite all of this, solar still has a role.

Solar in Maine:

• Reduces fuel burn during daylight

• Helps during summer peaks

• Adds diversity to the energy mix

• Can be useful at small scale

But it is a supplement, not a foundation.

The Core Takeaway

Solar power in Maine is constrained by:

• Latitude

• Winter demand peaks

• Snow cover

• Lack of inertia

• Zero nighttime availability

These constraints are physical. They cannot be legislated away or subsidized out of existence.

Solar can reduce energy costs at the margin. It cannot replace the systems that keep the grid alive in February.

The Larger Lesson

Predictability is not the same as control.

Solar’s output may be forecastable—but if it cannot be commanded when needed, it does not solve the baseload problem.

In Maine, that distinction is the difference between:

• A grid that works on average

• And a grid that works when it matters

Coming Up in Part IX

Inverters, Batteries, and the Myth of “Synthetic Baseload” We’ll examine why power electronics are indispensable—but insufficient—and why replacing physical inertia with software creates new risks rather than eliminating old ones.

Wind power is often described as one of Maine’s great untapped opportunities—especially offshore. The narrative usually sounds something like this:

• Maine has strong winds

• The Gulf of Maine is large

• Offshore wind turbines are getting bigger

• Therefore, wind can replace traditional generation

That conclusion does not follow from the premises.

Wind power can produce energy in Maine. It does not naturally produce control, stability, or reliability—and those are the properties the grid actually needs.

The Fundamental Limitation: Wind Does Not Govern Energy

A wind turbine does not decide when it produces power.

• It does not control wind speed

• It does not control timing

• It does not control ramp rate

• It does not control availability

It converts whatever kinetic energy happens to be available at that moment into electricity.

From a grid perspective, that means wind is:

• Non-dispatchable

• Non-synchronous

• Inherently variable

This is not a criticism. It is a description.

Because wind cannot govern its own energy input, it cannot independently:

• Hold frequency

• Hold voltage

• Provide inertia

• Guarantee availability

Those services must come from elsewhere.

Maine’s Onshore Wind Reality: Geography and Density

Onshore wind in Maine exists—but it is constrained.

Geographic Constraints

• Wind resources are strongest on ridgelines and remote areas

• These locations are far from load centers

• Transmission expansion is expensive and controversial

Land Use and Public Acceptance

• Maine is heavily forested

• Ridgeline development affects large visual and ecological areas

• Local opposition is common and persistent

Capacity Factor vs Grid Value

Even when onshore wind performs well:

• Output is still intermittent

• Winter icing events reduce availability

• Wind output often peaks when load does not

As a result, onshore wind in Maine has limited ability to scale further without disproportionate cost and resistance.

This is why attention has shifted offshore.

Offshore Wind: Bigger Turbines, Bigger Claims

Offshore wind proponents often argue that moving turbines offshore solves the problems of onshore wind.

It solves some. It creates others.

The Technical Appeal

• Stronger, more consistent winds

• Larger turbines (15–20+ MW each)

• Higher capacity factors than onshore wind

From an energy-production standpoint, offshore wind is superior to onshore wind.

From a system-cost and maintenance standpoint, it is far more complicated.

The Maintenance Reality Offshore

Offshore wind turbines are not just larger versions of onshore turbines. They are industrial machines operating in a hostile marine environment.

The Environment

• Saltwater corrosion

• Constant wave motion

• High winds during storms

• Ice in winter

• Limited access windows

These conditions dramatically increase:

• Wear rates

• Inspection requirements

• Maintenance cost

• Downtime risk

Every major maintenance activity offshore requires:

• Specialized vessels

• Favorable weather windows

• Highly trained crews

• Long mobilization times

This is not theoretical. It is standard offshore operations reality.

Anyone who has worked offshore understands that access is everything—and offshore wind has some of the worst access conditions of any power technology.

The Capacity Factor Illusion

Offshore wind advocates often cite high capacity factors to justify cost.

What is rarely discussed is availability when needed.

A turbine may have:

• A high annual capacity factor

• And still be unavailable during peak demand events

In Maine and New England, grid stress events often occur:

• During winter cold snaps

• During storms

• During icing conditions

These are precisely the times when offshore access is most difficult and wind output may be curtailed or unpredictable.

Offshore Wind and Grid Dependence

Offshore wind does not connect directly to Maine’s load centers.

It requires:

• Subsea transmission

• Onshore interconnection infrastructure

• Reinforcement of inland transmission

Those costs are not part of the turbine. They are part of the system.

Even then, offshore wind:

• Does not provide inertia

• Does not provide fault current

• Does not provide frequency control

It depends on a stable grid to exist.

That stability must come from:

• Hydro

• Gas

• Oil

• Biomass

• Imports from the rest of New England

Often coordinated through ISO New England.

The Maintenance Cost Nobody Likes to Price In

Offshore wind economics often focus on:

• Capital cost per MW

• Energy cost per MWh

They rarely focus on:

• Lifetime maintenance cost

• Vessel day rates

• Component replacement offshore

• Extended downtime risk

A failed gearbox offshore is not a truck roll. It is a maritime operation.

Those costs do not disappear. They are either:

• Passed to ratepayers

• Socialized through subsidies

• Deferred through reduced maintenance (until failure)

None of those outcomes reduce system cost.

Why Offshore Wind Does Not Replace Baseload

Even if offshore wind performs exactly as advertised:

• The grid still needs full backup capacity

• That capacity must be dispatchable

• That capacity must be maintained and staffed

Offshore wind reduces fuel consumption when conditions are favorable.

It does not reduce:

• Required peak capacity

• Required spinning reserve

• Required grid inertia

This means offshore wind is additive, not substitutive, from a reliability standpoint.

Maine’s Grid: Small, Constrained, and Winter-Peaked

Maine’s grid characteristics amplify these issues:

• Small load relative to project scale

• Long transmission distances

• Winter peak demand

• Exposure to severe weather

Adding large amounts of offshore wind to a small, constrained grid increases:

• Variability

• Transmission stress

• Dependence on backup generation

It does not simplify the system. It complicates it.

The Financial Disconnect

Offshore wind projects are often justified with:

• Federal tax credits

• Long-term power purchase agreements

• Guaranteed pricing

These mechanisms hide—but do not eliminate—cost.

They transfer risk:

• From developers

• To ratepayers

• To taxpayers

From a grid standpoint, the system still pays for:

• Backup plants

• Fuel security

• Maintenance of dispatchable assets

Wind does not pay those costs directly.

The Core Takeaway

Wind power—onshore or offshore—can produce energy in Maine.

It cannot:

• Govern frequency

• Guarantee availability

• Replace dispatchable capacity

• Eliminate winter reliability risk

Offshore wind, in particular, adds:

• High capital cost

• High maintenance complexity

• High operational risk

While still relying on the same underlying grid support it claims to displace.

The Larger Lesson

Maine’s wind discussion often focuses on where turbines could go.

It spends far less time on:

• How the system actually operates

• Who pays for backup

• Who carries reliability risk

• What happens in February, not July

Wind energy can be part of the mix. It cannot carry the mix.

Coming Up in Part VIII

Solar Power: Predictable Intermittency Is Still Intermittency We’ll look at why solar behaves differently than wind, why Maine’s latitude matters, and why seasonal mismatch dominates solar economics in northern grids.

Natural gas power plants are often presented as the perfect modern solution: cleaner than coal, cheaper than nuclear, flexible enough to support renewables, and fast to build.

From a narrow perspective, that story sounds compelling.

From a system and engineering perspective, it is deeply incomplete.

Natural gas plants are not failing because the technology is flawed. They are failing because they are increasingly being asked to do a job they were never designed to do—particularly in Maine and the broader New England grid.

Combined-Cycle Gas: One of the Most Efficient Machines Ever Built

Modern combined-cycle gas plants are engineering achievements.

They work by:

1. Burning natural gas in a combustion turbine to produce power

2. Capturing the hot exhaust (often ~1,000°F)

3. Using that heat to produce steam

4. Running a second steam turbine to generate additional electricity

When operated as designed, combined-cycle plants can exceed 60% thermal efficiency, far higher than coal and dramatically better than oil or diesel.

This efficiency is the foundation of the “cheap gas” narrative.

The Design Assumption Everyone Ignores

Combined-cycle plants assume:

• Long, steady run times

• Stable thermal conditions

• Predictable load profiles

• Minimal starts and stops

The steam cycle—the second half of the plant—is thermally slow. It takes hours to heat up and stabilize, and it is sensitive to frequent shutdowns.

In short: Combined-cycle plants are baseload and steady-load machines, not shock absorbers.

What Happens When You Force Gas to Chase Wind and Solar

As wind and solar penetration increases, gas plants are increasingly used as:

• Backup generation

• Load-following resources

• Rapid ramping units

In theory, this sounds reasonable. In practice, it breaks the economics and physics of the plant.

When gas plants are forced to:

• Ramp frequently

• Shut down daily

• Restart on short notice

The steam cycle cannot stay hot.

The plant degrades into simple-cycle operation, meaning:

• The steam turbine contributes little or nothing

• Efficiency collapses

• Fuel burn per kWh increases sharply

The plant still runs—but it no longer runs well.

The Hidden Costs of Cycling Gas Plants

When combined-cycle plants are misused this way, several things happen simultaneously:

1. Fuel Efficiency Loss

• More gas burned per unit of electricity

• Higher operating costs

• Higher emissions per kWh

2. Maintenance and Fatigue

• Thermal cycling stresses turbines and boilers

• Increased inspections and repairs

• Shortened component life

3. Reliability Degradation

• Higher forced outage rates

• Reduced availability during peak events

• Increased dependence on oil and diesel backup

None of these costs appear in simple LCOE comparisons.

Maine and New England: Where the Theory Breaks Down

Nowhere is this mismatch more visible than in Maine and New England.

The region has:

• Limited natural gas pipeline capacity

• High winter heating demand

• Cold-weather peak electricity loads

During winter cold snaps:

• Gas supply is constrained

• Priority is given to residential heating

• Power plants are curtailed or priced out

This is not hypothetical. It is a recurring, planned-for condition acknowledged by ISO New England.

The Winter Reliability Trap

In winter, New England faces a triple constraint:

1. Peak electrical demand

2. Peak heating demand

3. Limited fuel delivery capacity

When gas becomes scarce or expensive:

• Combined-cycle plants reduce output

• Oil-fired plants are dispatched

• Biomass and hydro carry more load

• Diesel units stand ready

This reality exposes a fundamental truth:

Gas plants are only “cheap” when fuel is abundant and operations are smooth.

Maine’s winter grid does not provide those conditions.

Gas as Baseload vs Gas as Backup

Gas plants perform very differently depending on how they are used.

As Baseload or Steady Load

• High efficiency

• Predictable costs

• Low emissions

• Long equipment life

As Intermittent Backup

• Low efficiency

• High fuel burn

• High maintenance

• Increased emissions

• Reduced reliability

Policy discussions often assume gas can do both equally well.

It cannot.

The Pipeline Problem No One Likes to Talk About

Unlike coal, oil, or biomass, natural gas:

• Is rarely stored on-site in large quantities

• Depends on real-time delivery

• Competes with other end uses

In New England, pipeline expansion has been politically and legally constrained for years.

This means the grid is being asked to:

• Depend more heavily on gas

• Without increasing fuel delivery capacity

That is not a technical solution. It is a risk transfer.

Why Gas Plants Still Matter

Despite these issues, natural gas remains essential.

Gas plants:

• Start faster than coal or nuclear

• Provide valuable ramping capability

• Are cleaner than oil and coal

• Can support the grid when used correctly

The problem is not gas itself.

The problem is asking gas to compensate for variability created elsewhere, while ignoring the cost of doing so.

Financial Reality: Cheap Energy vs Reliable Energy

Gas plants look cheap when evaluated as:

• Standalone generators

• Operating under ideal conditions

They look very different when evaluated as:

• Grid stabilizers

• Backup capacity

• Cycling resources

In Maine and New England, gas increasingly plays the second role—while being priced as if it were the first.

That mismatch is paid for through:

• Capacity markets

• Winter price spikes

• Oil backup

• Higher system costs

Again, the bill is real—even if it is indirect.

The Core Takeaway

Natural gas power plants are not failing the grid.

They are being misapplied by the grid.

Combined-cycle gas works brilliantly when:

• Allowed to run steadily

• Supplied reliably

• Treated as infrastructure

It works poorly when:

• Forced to cycle constantly

• Used as renewable insurance

• Constrained by fuel delivery limits

Maine’s grid makes this painfully obvious every winter.

The Larger Lesson

You cannot build a system that:

• Penalizes steady operation

• Rewards intermittency

• Constrains fuel delivery

And expect reliability to remain cheap.

Gas plants will continue to play a vital role—but only if energy planning starts respecting how they are actually designed to operate, not how spreadsheets assume they do.

Coming Up in Part VII

Wind Power: Energy Without Control We’ll examine why wind adds variability rather than replacing baseload, how capacity factor is misunderstood, and why Maine’s geography makes wind both useful and limited.

(With a Reality Check from Maine’s Grid)

There is a reason fossil-fueled power plants—coal, oil, diesel, and biomass—continue to exist on modern electrical grids, even as policy, media, and investment capital move aggressively against them.

It is not nostalgia. It is not politics. It is not ignorance.

It is reliability.

In engineering terms, these plants persist because they do exactly what a grid demands under stress: they start when told, run when needed, and hold frequency and voltage without excuses.

Nowhere is this more visible than in Maine and the broader New England grid.

Why Fossil Plants Are Naturally Baseload-Capable

All fossil thermal plants—regardless of fuel—share several key characteristics:

• They control their energy input directly

• They drive synchronous generators

• They provide real rotating inertia

• They produce fault current during disturbances

• They remain stable during weather events

From a grid-physics standpoint, they behave similarly to nuclear and hydro—just with different fuel and emissions profiles.

This makes them baseload-capable by nature.

Coal: The Original Baseload Workhorse

Coal plants were historically designed for:

• Continuous operation

• High thermal inertia

• Slow, predictable ramping

• Large rotating mass

They excel at steady-state power delivery and frequency stability.

Why Coal Declined (And Why That Matters)

Coal’s decline in New England was driven by:

• Environmental regulation

• Air quality concerns

• Carbon policy

• Competition from natural gas

But from a grid stability perspective, coal plants were extremely effective. Their retirement removed:

• Large inertia sources

• Long-duration fuel security

• Predictable winter performance

In Maine and New England, coal plants also had a unique advantage: on-site fuel storage.

When pipelines freeze or gas is constrained, a coal pile still burns.

Oil-Fired Generation: Expensive, Dirty, and Still Necessary

Oil-fired power plants are often dismissed as obsolete. In reality, they play a critical reliability role in New England.

Why Oil Still Exists on the Grid

In Maine and across the region:

• Natural gas pipeline capacity is limited

• Winter heating demand competes with power generation

• Cold snaps coincide with peak electrical load

When gas supply tightens, oil-fired plants step in.

These plants:

• Have fuel stored on-site

• Can start quickly

• Are dispatchable under all weather conditions

They are not cheap. They are not clean. But they are there when needed.

Every winter reliability assessment in New England quietly assumes oil generation will be available—because physics demands it.

Diesel: Small, Loud, and Absolutely Reliable

Diesel generators rarely make headlines, but they are everywhere:

• Hospitals

• Municipal facilities

• Remote communities

• Islanded systems

• Emergency backup

In Maine, diesel plays an outsized role in:

• Remote locations

• Backup generation

• Black-start capability

From a grid standpoint, diesel engines are:

• Extremely controllable

• Frequency-stable

• Fast-starting

• Rugged under abuse

They are inefficient and polluting compared to other sources—but they do not lie about their availability.

Biomass and Wood-Fired Plants: Maine’s Compromise Fuel

Biomass deserves special attention in Maine, where wood-fired plants have long been part of the energy landscape.

Why Biomass Exists in Maine

Maine has:

• A large forest products industry

• Residual wood waste

• Local fuel supply chains

Biomass plants provide:

• Baseload-capable power

• Dispatchability

• Grid inertia

• Local economic activity

Electrically, a biomass plant behaves like a small coal plant. From the grid’s perspective, it is familiar, predictable, and stable.

The Downsides

• High emissions per kWh

• Air quality concerns

• Fuel logistics

• Questionable carbon accounting

But from a pure grid-reliability standpoint, biomass is far more valuable than intermittent sources of equivalent nameplate capacity.

Maine’s Grid Reality: Winter Is the Truth Serum

Maine’s grid does not fail in July. It is stressed in January and February.

Cold weather brings:

• Peak heating demand

• Ice and wind events

• Fuel supply constraints

• Transmission stress

During these periods:

• Solar output is minimal

• Wind may or may not cooperate

• Batteries drain quickly

• Gas becomes constrained

What remains are:

• Oil plants

• Biomass plants

• Diesel units

• Hydro

• Imports from the rest of New England

This is not theoretical. It is observed every winter.

Organizations like ISO New England plan for this explicitly, because ignoring it would be reckless.

Fuel Security vs Fuel Purity

One of the least discussed aspects of fossil generation is fuel security.

A power plant with:

• Fuel stored on-site

• Independent supply

• Minimal infrastructure dependency

Is fundamentally more reliable than one dependent on:

• Real-time delivery

• Long pipelines

• Weather-sensitive logistics

In New England, this reality drives continued reliance on oil and biomass—even as they are publicly criticized.

The grid is planned for worst-case conditions, not average days.

The Environmental Tradeoff Nobody Likes to Admit

Fossil plants pollute. That is not in dispute.

But grid planning involves tradeoffs:

• Short-duration high emissions during stress events vs

• System-wide failure with cascading consequences

A blackout in winter:

• Shuts down heating

• Disables water systems

• Disrupts communications

• Endangers lives

From a risk-management perspective, emissions during rare peak events are tolerated because the alternative is worse.

This is not ideology. It is triage.

The Financial Reality: Reliability Costs Money

Fossil baseload plants are expensive in ways that are visible:

• Fuel cost

• Emissions controls

• Staffing

• Maintenance

But they save money in ways that are invisible:

• Preventing blackouts

• Reducing grid reinforcement

• Providing inertia and reserves

• Avoiding cascading failures

These avoided costs do not show up in LCOE charts—but they are very real.

Maine as a Case Study in Honesty

Maine’s grid is often held up as a renewable success story. It also serves as a case study in quiet dependence.

Even with:

• Wind

• Solar

• Hydro imports

The system still relies on:

• Oil

• Biomass

• Diesel

Especially when conditions are worst.

This is not hypocrisy. It is engineering.

The Core Takeaway

Coal, oil, biomass, and diesel are not popular. They are not fashionable. They are not aspirational.

But they are honest.

They:

• Show up when called

• Hold frequency

• Carry load during stress

• Accept responsibility for grid stability

Until another technology can do all of that without hidden backup, these sources—or ones that behave like them—will remain part of serious power systems.

Coming Up in Part VI

Natural Gas: Efficient Until You Break the Design Assumptions We’ll look at why gas plants are often misused, how combined-cycle efficiency is lost, and why New England’s gas constraints expose the limits of “cheap” power.

If nuclear power is the ideal thermal baseload machine, then large hydroelectric power is the ideal mechanical baseload machine.

Hydro works not because it is “renewable,” but because it does something most modern energy discussions ignore entirely:

It stores energy physically, at scale, in a controllable form.

That single fact explains nearly every advantage hydroelectric power has on an electrical grid—and also explains why small, run-of-river systems behave very differently from large reservoir-based plants.

The Core Advantage: Energy Stored Before It’s Needed

Large hydroelectric plants store energy as elevated mass.

Water held behind a dam represents:

• Potential energy

• Immediately available on demand

• Independent of weather in the short term

• Directly controllable by operators

Unlike wind or solar, hydro does not wait for conditions to cooperate. Operators decide when to release water, how fast turbines spin, and how much power is produced—second by second.

That makes hydro fundamentally different from all intermittent sources.

Mechanical Synchronization: Why Hydro Plays So Well With the Grid

Hydroelectric turbines are directly coupled to synchronous generators. There is no need to synthesize frequency electronically.

When a hydro unit is online:

• Shaft speed is locked to grid frequency

• Voltage is controlled conventionally

• Inertia is real, physical, and immediate

• Fault current is available when needed

This means hydro units:

• Stabilize frequency

• Absorb load transients

• Provide spinning reserve naturally

From the grid’s perspective, hydro behaves like an exceptionally well-mannered generator.

Baseload, Peak Load, and Everything in Between

One of hydro’s most underappreciated strengths is operational flexibility.

A large hydro plant can serve as:

• Baseload power

• Peak load power

• Spinning reserve

• Black-start capability

All using the same physical infrastructure.

A nuclear plant must run steadily. A coal plant ramps slowly. A gas plant pays efficiency penalties when cycled.

Hydro can go from zero to full output in minutes—or seconds—without thermal stress.

This is why hydroelectric plants are often the backbone of grid stability in regions where they exist.

Why Reservoirs Matter (And Run-of-River Often Doesn’t)

Not all hydro is created equal.

Large Reservoir-Based Hydro

These systems:

• Decouple generation from inflow timing

• Provide multi-hour, multi-day, or seasonal storage

• Allow operators to shape output to demand

They are true baseload-capable resources.

Run-of-River and “Backyard” Hydro

Small or run-of-river systems:

• Produce power only when water flows

• Have little to no storage

• Cannot control output meaningfully

These systems behave more like wind or solar:

• Environmentally driven

• Poorly dispatchable

• Limited grid value beyond energy contribution

This distinction is often blurred in public debates, but it is critical for system planning.

Inertia: Hydro’s Silent Superpower

Because hydro turbines and generators are large rotating machines, they contribute real inertia to the grid.

When load suddenly changes:

• Stored kinetic energy is released or absorbed

• Frequency deviation slows

• Control systems gain time to react

This inertial response:

• Requires no software

• Requires no communication

• Cannot be delayed or hacked

In grids with significant hydro penetration, frequency behavior is typically calmer and more forgiving.

Environmental Tradeoffs: Real, Local, and Finite

Hydroelectric power is often criticized on environmental grounds—and those criticisms are not imaginary.

Large dams can:

• Disrupt fish migration

• Alter river ecosystems

• Change sediment transport

• Flood upstream land

These impacts are real and must be weighed seriously.

However, it’s important to recognize the nature of these impacts:

• They are local, not global

• They are finite, not cumulative

• They occur once, at construction

This is fundamentally different from fuel-based emissions, which accumulate continuously over decades.

Lifecycle Economics: Where Hydro Quietly Wins

Hydroelectric projects are capital-intensive—but once built, they age exceptionally well.

Capital Costs

Hydro projects involve:

• Massive civil works

• Long construction timelines

• Significant upfront investment

These costs are undeniable and often politically contentious.

Operating Costs

Once operational:

• Fuel cost is zero

• Maintenance costs are low

• Equipment life is extremely long

Many hydro plants operate reliably for 50–100 years, often with incremental upgrades rather than wholesale replacement.

Very few energy assets improve their economics with age. Hydro often does.

Capacity Factor vs Availability

Hydro capacity factor varies depending on water availability—but availability is the more important metric.

A hydro plant with a reservoir can:

• Be available whenever needed

• Choose when to generate

• Support the grid during stress events

This controllability is far more valuable than high annual energy output.

Grids fail during peaks and disturbances, not during averages.

Hydro as Grid Insurance

In regions with significant hydro:

• Fewer blackouts occur

• Frequency excursions are smaller

• Backup generation requirements are reduced

Hydro does not just produce energy. It reduces system risk.

That risk reduction has enormous economic value—rarely captured in simple cost comparisons.

Why Hydro Is Hard to Replicate Today

If hydro is so good, why don’t we build more?

The answer is mostly geographic and political:

• Suitable sites are limited

• Environmental permitting is complex

• Large civil projects face public opposition

Hydro is not scarce because it doesn’t work. It is scarce because it changes landscapes permanently.

The Core Lesson Hydro Teaches

Hydroelectric power succeeds because it aligns with how the grid actually works:

• Energy stored before demand

• Mechanical control of output

• Physical inertia

• Long-lived infrastructure

It does not depend on:

• Statistical averages

• Perfect forecasts

• Real-time market signals

Hydro reminds us of a simple truth:

The best energy storage is the kind you don’t have to invent new physics to use.

The Takeaway

Hydroelectric power is one of the clearest demonstrations that baseload is not about ideology—it’s about control.

When you can decide:

• How much energy to release

• When to release it

• How fast machines spin

The grid becomes stable, predictable, and resilient.

When you cannot, everything else in the system must compensate—and compensation always costs more than advertised.

Coming Up in Part V

Fossil Baseload: Coal, Oil, Biomass, and Diesel — Unfashionable but Honest We’ll look at why these sources persist, how they behave electrically, and why reliability doesn’t disappear just because fuels fall out of fashion.

If you were asked to design a power source from scratch—with the single goal of providing continuous, stable, grid-supporting electricity—you would end up with something that looks very much like a nuclear power plant.

That is not an ideological statement. It is an engineering one.

From a grid-physics perspective, nuclear power is almost perfectly aligned with what the electrical system actually needs. Where nuclear struggles is not in performance, safety, or reliability—but in capital risk, regulatory uncertainty, and political time horizons.

To understand why, we need to separate how nuclear operates from how nuclear gets built.

Why Nuclear Is Naturally Baseload

Nuclear power plants are fundamentally thermal inertia machines.

At their core, they consist of:

• A reactor producing steady heat

• Large steam generators

• Massive turbines and generators

• Extremely heavy rotating equipment

Once operating, a nuclear plant is designed to run:

• Continuously

• At constant output

• For long fuel cycles (typically 18–24 months)

This design aligns perfectly with the physical requirements of the grid.

Inertia and Frequency Stability

A nuclear plant’s turbine-generator set weighs hundreds of tons. That rotating mass stores enormous kinetic energy.

When electrical load suddenly increases:

• The turbine slows slightly

• Stored inertia supplies energy instantly

• Governors and control systems respond smoothly

When load drops:

• Excess energy is absorbed

• Frequency rise is damped

This response is automatic, physical, and instantaneous. It does not rely on software, communications, or external references.

From a grid perspective, this is gold.

Capacity Factor: Where Nuclear Quietly Dominates

One of the most misleading metrics in public energy discussions is nameplate capacity.

A 1,000 MW nuclear plant does not sometimes produce 1,000 MW. It produces near that output almost all the time.

Typical nuclear capacity factors exceed 90%.

That means:

• The plant is online

• Synchronized

• Carrying load

• Providing inertia

Year after year.

By contrast:

• Wind capacity factors are typically 25–40%

• Solar often falls below 25% in northern climates

A grid does not run on averages. It runs on availability right now.

Nuclear and Baseload Economics

From an operating standpoint, nuclear power is deceptively cheap.

Fuel Costs

Nuclear fuel contains an enormous amount of energy in a very small mass. Fuel costs per kilowatt-hour are low and stable, and price volatility is minimal compared to fossil fuels.

Once fuel is loaded:

• Operating costs are predictable

• Marginal cost of generation is low

• Output is not weather-dependent

This is why existing nuclear plants, once built, are often among the cheapest sources of electricity on the grid.

Operating Discipline

Nuclear plants are staffed, maintained, and operated under extremely conservative rules. That increases staffing and compliance costs—but it also produces:

• Very high reliability

• Very low forced outage rates

• Long component life

From a system-planning standpoint, nuclear behaves like a known constant.

Safety: Measured, Not Imagined

Nuclear safety discussions are often dominated by dramatic imagery rather than statistics.

When evaluated objectively—deaths per kilowatt-hour generated—nuclear is among the safest power sources ever deployed, comparable to or better than wind and solar, and far safer than fossil fuels.

This is not because nuclear plants are simple. It is because they are:

• Designed defensively

• Redundant by necessity

• Operated conservatively

• Regulated intensely

The industry assumes failure is possible and designs systems accordingly. That mindset matters.

Why Nuclear Is a Terrible Load-Following Tool

Despite its grid strengths, nuclear has a limitation that is often misunderstood.

Nuclear plants do not like cycling.

While they can adjust output, frequent ramping:

• Reduces efficiency

• Complicates reactor control

• Increases mechanical stress

Nuclear plants are economically and mechanically optimized for steady baseload operation, not daily load chasing.

This matters when nuclear is paired with high levels of intermittent generation. If forced to ramp frequently to compensate for wind and solar variability, nuclear loses much of its advantage.

The Real Nuclear Problem: Capital, Not Physics

If nuclear is so good technically, why is it so hard to build?

The answer lies almost entirely in capital structure and timelines.

Upfront Cost Concentration

Nuclear plants have:

• Very high upfront capital costs

• Long construction timelines

• Zero revenue until completion

This creates enormous financial risk.

Every year of delay:

• Accrues interest

• Increases total project cost

• Exposes the project to regulatory change

Once a nuclear plant is operating, it is an economic asset. Until then, it is a financial liability.

Regulatory Time Horizons vs Asset Lifetimes

A nuclear plant is a 60–80 year asset.

Political and regulatory systems operate on:

• Election cycles

• Annual budgets

• Short-term public sentiment

This mismatch creates instability.

A project approved under one regulatory regime may be:

• Modified mid-construction

• Delayed by new requirements

• Subjected to changing standards

No other major infrastructure project is asked to absorb this level of uncertainty.

Financing Risk Is the Nuclear Killer

From a pure engineering standpoint, nuclear is solvable. From a financing standpoint, it is brutal.

Investors fear:

• Schedule overruns

• Regulatory changes

• Public opposition

• Political intervention

These risks inflate the cost of capital, which in turn:

• Drives up total project cost

• Makes nuclear appear uneconomic

• Discourages new construction

Ironically, the very safety and oversight demanded of nuclear is what makes it financially fragile.

Why Small Modular Reactors Don’t Magically Fix This

Small Modular Reactors (SMRs) are often presented as a solution. They may help—but they do not eliminate the core problem.

SMRs still face:

• Licensing hurdles

• First-of-kind risk

• Long approval timelines

• Public opposition

They reduce construction risk, but not regulatory risk.

Nuclear vs Intermittent Power: A Structural Mismatch

Nuclear excels in systems that value:

• Stability

• Long-term planning

• High reliability

It struggles in systems optimized for:

• Short-term incentives

• Rapid deployment

• Political signaling

This is not a failure of nuclear technology. It is a failure of system alignment.

The Quiet Reality

In many regions, existing nuclear plants:

• Prevent blackouts

• Stabilize frequency

• Suppress fuel price volatility

• Reduce emissions

And they do so quietly, without fanfare, because they are boring when they work.

That is exactly what a grid needs.

The Core Takeaway

Nuclear power is not hard because it is unsafe. It is not hard because it is unreliable. It is not hard because it doesn’t work.

It is hard because:

• It requires long-term thinking

• It concentrates capital risk upfront

• It demands regulatory consistency

From a baseload and grid-physics standpoint, nuclear is nearly ideal.

From a political and financial standpoint, it is uncomfortable.

Coming Up in Part IV

Hydroelectric Power: Stored Energy Done Right We’ll look at why hydro works so well, why reservoirs matter, and why physical energy storage beats statistical energy production every time.

The word baseload has become one of the most misused terms in modern energy discussions. It’s often treated as political, outdated, or even unnecessary—something we can simply “engineer around” with enough renewables, batteries, or software.

That framing misses the point entirely.

Baseload is not a preference. It is not a legacy artifact. It is not a utility talking point.

Baseload is the unavoidable result of physics.

To understand why, we need to strip the term down to its origins and then build it back up the way power engineers actually use it.

Baseload, Version 1: Friction and the Cost of Turning Machines

At its most basic level, baseload begins with friction.

Every rotating machine—whether it’s a diesel engine, a gas turbine, a steam turbine, or a hydro turbine—has internal losses. These include:

• Bearing friction

• Shaft windage

• Fluid shear

• Magnetic hysteresis in generators

• Auxiliary loads like pumps, cooling fans, lubrication systems, and controls

Even if a generator is producing zero electrical output, energy must still be supplied just to keep it spinning at synchronous speed.

That irreducible energy demand is the original engineering meaning of baseload:

the minimum continuous power required to keep a machine operational.

This is not optional energy. It is not productive energy. It is the cost of participation.

In mechanical terms, baseload is the price you pay simply to stay connected and ready.

Why This Still Matters in a Modern Grid

It’s tempting to dismiss this definition as academic. After all, today’s grid is massive, automated, and digitally controlled. But the same physical principle still applies—just at scale.

A generator that is already spinning:

• Can accept load instantly

• Can respond to disturbances

• Can stabilize frequency

A generator that is stopped:

• Cannot help until it is started

• Requires time to synchronize

• Contributes nothing during that delay

This is why power systems distinguish between:

• Spinning capacity (already running)

• Non-spinning capacity (available later)

Baseload, in practice, means machines that are already online, absorbing frictional losses so they can respond when needed.

Baseload, Version 2: Frequency Is the Real Currency

In public discussions, baseload is often described as “the power we always need.” That’s close—but incomplete.

What the grid actually needs at all times is:

• Stable frequency

• Stable voltage

• Stable phase alignment

In North America, that frequency is 60.0 Hz, and the tolerance is tight. Deviations are measured in hundredths of a hertz, not whole numbers.

Frequency stability is not about comfort. It is about survival of the system.

When load exceeds generation:

• Frequency drops

• Generators slow

• Protection systems trip

When generation exceeds load:

• Frequency rises

• Equipment is overstressed

• Turbines trip to protect themselves

In both cases, cascading failures are possible.

From this perspective, modern baseload means:

power sources that can independently and continuously maintain frequency and voltage under all operating conditions.

That is the definition that actually matters.

Governing Energy vs Chasing It

The key distinction between power sources is not whether they are “clean,” “cheap,” or “renewable.” It is whether they govern their own energy supply.

A power source that governs its energy:

• Controls fuel flow or stored energy

• Sets shaft speed directly

• Locks itself to grid frequency

• Responds physically to load changes

Examples include:

• Nuclear

• Large hydro

• Coal

• Oil

• Diesel

• Gas turbines (within design limits)

These machines impose stability on the grid.

By contrast, power sources that do not govern their energy:

• Depend on environmental conditions

• Produce variable or DC power

• Must adapt to the grid electronically

Wind and solar fall into this category.

They do not set frequency. They follow it.

The Internet Error: Confusing Energy With Control

A common claim goes something like this:

“If we produce enough renewable energy, baseload doesn’t matter anymore.”

This statement confuses energy quantity with system control.

You can have:

• Plenty of energy

• At the wrong time

• At the wrong rate

• At the wrong frequency

And it will still destabilize the grid.

Baseload is not about how many megawatt-hours you produce over a year. It is about whether the system can survive the next second.

Spinning Inertia: The Hidden Backbone of the Grid

One of the least discussed aspects of baseload is inertia.

Large rotating machines store kinetic energy simply by spinning. When a disturbance occurs:

• That stored energy is released or absorbed

• Frequency changes more slowly

• Control systems have time to react

This inertial response is:

• Automatic

• Instantaneous

• Independent of software or communications

It exists because steel has mass.

In systems dominated by synchronous generators, inertia is abundant and frequency changes are slow and predictable.

As synchronous machines are displaced by inverter-based sources, inertia declines—and frequency becomes fragile.

No amount of market design changes this.

Why “We’ll Just Turn It On When Needed” Doesn’t Work

Another common misunderstanding is the idea that generators can simply be started when demand rises.

In reality:

• Large thermal plants take hours to start

• Steam systems require careful warm-up

• Synchronization must be precise

• Mechanical stress limits ramp rates

This is why grids carry spinning reserve—capacity that is already running, already synchronized, already paying its frictional cost.

Baseload plants supply that reserve by default.

Intermittent sources do not.

The Cost of Pretending Baseload Doesn’t Exist

When baseload-capable machines are forced out of steady operation:

• They run less efficiently

• Fuel burn per kWh increases

• Maintenance costs rise

• Equipment life shortens

When intermittent sources are added without reducing peak demand:

• Backup capacity must still exist

• Redundancy is duplicated

• Costs are shifted, not eliminated

This is how you end up with systems that look cheap on paper but expensive on bills.

Baseload doesn’t disappear. It just moves—often invisibly—into:

• Gas plants running inefficiently

• Capacity payments

• Grid upgrades

• Reliability margins

Physics always collects the bill.

Why Engineers Don’t Argue About Baseload

In engineering environments—offshore, industrial, military—baseload is not debated. It is assumed.

No one designs a DP vessel assuming:

• Thrusters will only work when convenient

• Generators can be intermittent

• Frequency stability can be outsourced

Because failure modes are immediate and obvious.

The land-based grid is no different—just more forgiving, until it isn’t.

The Point of This Series

This series is not about opposing renewables or defending legacy fuels. It is about restoring physical clarity to a discussion that has drifted into slogans.

Baseload exists because:

• Machines have friction

• Systems have inertia

• Frequency must be controlled

• Power must be available before it is needed

Ignore those facts, and the system compensates in ways that are always more expensive than advertised.

Coming Up in Part III

Nuclear Power: The Ideal Baseload Machine (And Why It’s Politically Difficult) We’ll look at why nuclear works so well from a grid perspective, where it fails financially, and why its problems are almost never technical.