Last year, with one of the first strokes of his presidency’s Sharpie, President Donald Trump signed an executive order declaring a “national energy emergency,” fulfilling a campaign promise to “drill, baby, drill.”
It was the first of many, signaling that the fight for fuel will be a pillar of the new administration: The order that followed promised to revive America’s shrinking coal industry, end subsidies for electric vehicles approved by Congress under former president Joe Biden, and loosen regulations on domestic producers of fossil fuels. Yet another executive order withdrew the US from the Paris Agreement, the nearly unanimous international agreement coordinating the global fight against climate change. He restarted liquefied natural gas that allowed his predecessor to be temporarily suspended and reopened the coast of the United States to drilling.
In the days following his inauguration, Trump killed the climate task force training program, closed millions of acres of contiguous waters set aside for offshore wind development, reopened the US coast to drilling, and criticized climate change rhetoric on other federal agency websites. To many observers, it looked like the most comprehensive reorientation of the executive branch’s environmental and climate priorities in American history.
On paper, it appears that Trump has continued to make good on these early promises. He forced Congress to pass the so-called Best Bill, which eliminates a large set of tax credits—for wind and solar energy, electric vehicles, and other carbon-emitting devices—that have had a major impact on the progress the US was expected to make on its Paris Agreement obligations. (That move has already led some companies to abandon new clean projects.) Trump’s attacks on the country’s offshore wind industry, which he recently called “very sad and very bad,” have been relentless, culminating in an outright ban on offshore leasing last month. A few weeks ago, he upped the ante on his earlier withdrawal from the Paris Agreement by severing ties with the United Nations body that facilitates international cooperation on climate change, environmental health, and sustainability—a deal unanimously approved by the US Senate in 1992.
“It’s been an incredibly destructive year,” said Rachel Cleetus, director of climate and energy policy at the nonprofit Union of Concerned Scientists. It’s not hard to find specific moves that have already done tangible damage to the climate: The EPA, for example, delayed a requirement for oil and gas operators to reduce emissions of methane, a powerful and fast-acting greenhouse gas, for a year. The Department of the Interior announced a $625 million investment to “revive and expand America’s coal industry” and directed an expensive Michigan coal plant that is about to close to remain open.
“He’s not changing the law,” said Elaine Kamarck, who worked in the Clinton administration and is the founding director of the Brookings Institution’s Center for Effective Public Management. “You change the habit.”
Even something as unprecedented as the EPA’s move to relinquish its authority to regulate emissions that affect human health—a responsibility that encompasses a core tenet of the agency’s mission and is therefore widely viewed as impossible to hold up in court—could be resolved by future administrations even if deemed to take years, though that process will take years.
“You can’t make up for lost time, increased greenhouse gas emissions, and the rate at which new land is being opened up for use. [fossil fuel] assessment,” said Michael Burger, executive director of the Sabin Center for Climate Change Law at Columbia University. “But from a regulatory perspective, what this change does to the EPA and other agencies is that every executive action can be reversed in the same way that it was done.”
The biggest exception is the GOP’s One Big Beautiful Bill, or OBBBA. If a future administration wants to restore extended tax credits for wind and solar energy, that president will have to push Congress to pass new climate legislation. But the climate-friendly parts of OBBBA are notable for subtraction rather than addition—and are perhaps more accurately viewed as representing Trump’s desire to challenge former President Biden’s legacy rather than a desire to reform US energy law. Indeed, the new law left in place tax credits for other carbon-free energy sources, including nuclear and geothermal—something moderate Republicans who disagree with the president’s dismissal of climate science have been quick to note.
“We like to point out that the clean energy bills have been saved,” said Luke Bolar, head of external affairs and communications at ClearPath, a think tank that promotes conservative climate policies. Sean Casten, a Democratic United States representative from Illinois, said the goal of the Biden-era climate law—to ensure that US clean energy can be built in a cost-effective manner—would be largely achieved even if certain parts of the law were repealed.
“Every zero-carbon energy source … is still cheap compared to a fossil fuel energy source,” he said.
The weakness associated with Trump’s attacks on environmental and climate laws may be a product of the president’s prioritization of political dominance over lasting change, said Josh Freed, senior vice president for climate and energy at the think tank Third Way.
For example, the administration has taken steps to protect the US coal industry from competitive sanctions, environmental regulation, and rising mining costs. Trump signed an executive order aimed at “reviving America’s clean coal industry,” gave coal-fired power plants a temporary exemption from emissions limits, and ended a federal moratorium on coal leasing. But those interventions will do little in the long run to reverse a decline driven largely by the economy: The country’s aging coal plants are becoming increasingly expensive to operate, while natural gas and solar power have declined sharply. And they hardly help the president’s stated goal of reducing household electricity costs.
Trying to make sense of the president’s battle to save coal is to think there’s a grand political strategy at play — which probably isn’t, Freed said.
“There is no reason to return the coal without showing that the management can return the coal,” he said. “It’s not like there’s this massive lobbying effort or donor base that’s going to help MAGA or the Republicans much if they do it.”
A management style driven by political dominance is a great way to make headlines, but it is not the most effective way to build a lasting legacy. Trump’s efforts to make coal may help the industry in the short term, but experts widely agree that coal cannot be “saved” without continued support from the federal government. And an industry that can only survive with a coal-friendly Republican in the Oval Office is not thriving.
“When you have to get the government to step in to put its thumb on the scale to help your industry,” Sean Feaster, an energy analyst at the Institute for Energy Economics and Financial Analysis, told colleagues earlier this week, “it’s a sign that you’re not particularly competitive, right?”
For decades now, the pendulum of US climate policy has swung left and right, reflecting the priorities of the sitting president. Trump’s climate blitzkrieg may be the strongest example yet of the benefits and drawbacks of that model. But despite his best efforts to stand out from the pack, the president’s first year back in office follows a well-worn pattern. As a result, his victory may not last longer than his presidency.
This article first appeared on Grist at Grist is a non-profit, independent media organization dedicated to telling stories about climate solutions and a just future. Learn more at Grist.org.
