I am informed that attempting to determine what the justices of the US Supreme Court are thinking by the questions that they ask during oral arguments is largely a waste of time. Nevertheless, I have succumbed to the temptation in the case of the Affordable Care Act. And after only two of the three days of testimony, no less! Most discussion of the ACA's constitutionality seems to divide into two parts; after reading the transcripts to this point, I think there are actually three groups on the Court. Disclaimer: statements about what various justices are thinking is speculative on my part; no disrespect is intended.
Call the first group the conservatives -- Scalia, Alito, and Thomas, even though Thomas doesn't actually ask any questions during oral arguments. This group is inclined to say the Commerce Clause doesn't stretch nearly far enough for the purposes to which Congress is putting it in the ACA, so the Act fails. Call the second group the liberals -- Ginsberg, Breyer, Kagan, and Sotomayor. This group is inclined to say that the outcome of the ACA is constitutional, so the mechanisms Congress selected for implementation don't matter. The third group, consisting of Roberts and Kennedy, seems the most interesting to me.
One of the points the liberal group hammered home repeatedly is that a single-payer system of health insurance, with the US federal government collecting taxes to fund it, and distributing those moneys to pay the health care bills for everybody, passes Constitutional muster. Phrased as a yes-no question, the plaintiffs' attorney answered that his clients agreed such a system was okay. The conservative group of justices didn't, at least IMO, seem to care about this. I suspect that while the conservative justices' opinions as to the Constitutional validity of a program like Medicare may vary, none of them see that as an issue in this case.
Roberts and Kennedy, though, seem to consider this more carefully. I think they realize that the alternatives to a system in which the private health insurance companies are regulated to function so that they are equivalent to a single-payer system (which could logically subsume programs like Medicare) are (a) largely unregulated individual markets that will be politically untenable in the near future or (b) true single-payer. And a key portion of making any system of regulation intended to produce the effects of tax-funded single-payer is a universal mandate -- everyone, young or old, healthy or sick, has to participate in the system in order for the numbers to work out.
So at this point in time, what seems the most likely outcome? If forced to bet, I would bet on a 6-3 decision that says the ACA stands on the grounds that Congress can use regulation of a large existing private sector to implement a program. Multiple concurring opinions that muddy the waters on the Commerce Clause. Strong dissenting opinion(s) in the "end of the world as we know it" vein. I should note that while I make reasonably good predictions about technology in the longish term, I have a terrible record at short-term political forecasts.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
The Republicans' Demographic Problem
I seldom feel moved to make comments on politics. This morning after Super Tuesday, though, I was playing with the LA Times' maps showing county-by-county winners in the Republican primaries. For the most part, one trend seems very clear: Romney wins urban areas, the other guys win the rural areas. In Ohio, Romney won on the basis of Cleveland, Columbus and Cincinnati; Romney lost Tennessee, but won Nashville (and basically a dead heat in Knoxville); Gingrich won Georgia, but Romney won Atlanta; even back in South Carolina, where Gingrich managed to stay in the race, Romney won Columbia and Charleston.
Unlike many, I think the Republican nomination is a done deal now, and Romney has it. It may take a while for things to play out, but the outcome is pretty much a given. The several big urban states that haven't held their primaries yet will be decisive: New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Illinois, California. Santorum has the favorite-son advantage in PA, but the others should be solid Romney victories based on winning in urban areas. With Rick Perry out of the race, even Texas could be interesting: will Romney win Houston, DFW, San Antonio?
The knock on Romney throughout the primary season has been that he can't "connect" with the Republican Party base. The maps make it pretty clear that the interpretation of that should be that Romney can't connect with Republican voters outside of the urban areas. If those voters are the base, the Republican Party ought to be concerned about the map below (originally published by the Texas Tribune). From 2000 to 2010, metro areas across the country have been growing in population and the rural areas shrinking. Note that the picture in the West is somewhat misleading because of the physical size of many counties; the population growth in Southern California, Nevada, and Arizona is much more concentrated than the graphic suggests.
The areas where Romney has been doing well are, of course, also areas where Democrats tend to do well. Which is the demographic problem the Republicans face. If you drag up one of red/blue maps for the 2008 Presidential election, most of those same high-growth counties correspond well with counties that Obama won. The Republicans need a transformation; how do they become a party that is well-regarded by voters in urban areas? The obvious answer is to promote policies that solve problems in urban areas, although I think that's hard for them. Too many of their current policy positions are rural-oriented.
As one example, consider high gasoline prices. I have long argued that high gas prices hit rural areas much harder than they do urban areas. Average income tends to be higher in urban areas; urban areas are more likely to have alternatives to personal automobiles (eg, mass transit or ride sharing) than rural areas; small high-mileage cars are more practical in an urban setting than a rural one. Democrats can talk about carbon taxes in order to force gasoline use down, because urban voters have choices. Even ignoring the current Republican no-new-taxes stance, it's a lot harder for a Republican to propose such a tax because the burden will be heavier on the rural voters, whom the Republican is more likely to represent.
At some point the Republicans have to figure out how to be a conservative urban party, or face becoming irrelevant. They can fight a holding action in the US Senate because of the current rules that allow a group of 41 Senators to block legislation. But in the long run, they have to figure out the urban thing.
Unlike many, I think the Republican nomination is a done deal now, and Romney has it. It may take a while for things to play out, but the outcome is pretty much a given. The several big urban states that haven't held their primaries yet will be decisive: New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Illinois, California. Santorum has the favorite-son advantage in PA, but the others should be solid Romney victories based on winning in urban areas. With Rick Perry out of the race, even Texas could be interesting: will Romney win Houston, DFW, San Antonio?
The knock on Romney throughout the primary season has been that he can't "connect" with the Republican Party base. The maps make it pretty clear that the interpretation of that should be that Romney can't connect with Republican voters outside of the urban areas. If those voters are the base, the Republican Party ought to be concerned about the map below (originally published by the Texas Tribune). From 2000 to 2010, metro areas across the country have been growing in population and the rural areas shrinking. Note that the picture in the West is somewhat misleading because of the physical size of many counties; the population growth in Southern California, Nevada, and Arizona is much more concentrated than the graphic suggests.
The areas where Romney has been doing well are, of course, also areas where Democrats tend to do well. Which is the demographic problem the Republicans face. If you drag up one of red/blue maps for the 2008 Presidential election, most of those same high-growth counties correspond well with counties that Obama won. The Republicans need a transformation; how do they become a party that is well-regarded by voters in urban areas? The obvious answer is to promote policies that solve problems in urban areas, although I think that's hard for them. Too many of their current policy positions are rural-oriented.
As one example, consider high gasoline prices. I have long argued that high gas prices hit rural areas much harder than they do urban areas. Average income tends to be higher in urban areas; urban areas are more likely to have alternatives to personal automobiles (eg, mass transit or ride sharing) than rural areas; small high-mileage cars are more practical in an urban setting than a rural one. Democrats can talk about carbon taxes in order to force gasoline use down, because urban voters have choices. Even ignoring the current Republican no-new-taxes stance, it's a lot harder for a Republican to propose such a tax because the burden will be heavier on the rural voters, whom the Republican is more likely to represent.
At some point the Republicans have to figure out how to be a conservative urban party, or face becoming irrelevant. They can fight a holding action in the US Senate because of the current rules that allow a group of 41 Senators to block legislation. But in the long run, they have to figure out the urban thing.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Why I Am Not a Survivalist
Over at The Oil Drum today, a reader points us to a Web site that they consider the ultimate in doomer preparation. In the world of Peak Oil, doomers are those who believe that declining availability of petroleum-based fuels will lead quickly to a catastrophic crash of modern society. Survivalists are a subset of the doomers who believe that the only way to survive such a crash -- as the starving mobs burn down the cities -- is to be well isolated in the distant countryside, supplied with all the equipment needed to be self-sufficient. The day I visited this particular site, the headline story was about preparing caches along the line of march that would be followed to reach the author's hideout (worst case, 60 miles uphill across broken country).
Survivalists are not a new phenomenon, although the most-commonly feared disaster that requires fleeing the cities has varied over time. Starting when I was a lad in the late 1950s and early 1960s, I have read survivalists who believed they would have to flee (in rough chronological order): a nuclear exchange with the Soviet Union, massive riots by minority groups, a New World Order brought about by the United Nations, and an economic and social crash due to a permanent loss of petroleum supplies. Through it all, I have declined to be convinced. Not because the survivalists are necessarily wrong about the burning cities, but because of philosophical disagreements about survivalism as a basic strategy.
My first complaint is that many survivalists approach it as a short-term tactic: stockpiles of canned food, guns, ammunition, toilet paper. At some point, that all runs out. Maybe in weeks, maybe in years, but at some point, the stocked supplies from a contemporary civilization are gone. Absent the civilization, there's no such thing as a resupply, either. There are also accidents to consider. A rifle is only one unfortunate drop from a bent barrel, which transforms it from a sophisticated long-distance weapon into a badly-designed club. If the survivalist's intent is to provide for their own, and their family's, indefinite survival, many of them are stocking the wrong things.
My second complaint is that when you start making a list of the minimal skill set you want to preserve that doesn't depend on current society and technology, it quickly becomes apparent that no individual has the time to practice all of them. Consider the problem of producing a simple pair of trousers. Agriculture to grow flax or hemp. An understanding of the process to separate out the fibers. Some form of spinning -- and some are quite simple -- to produce thread or yarn. A loom to weave cloth. Something to cut the cloth. Needles to sew the pieces together. Add other technologies and you add the need for more experts: a carpenter, a blacksmith, a potter. Pretty quickly, you've moved beyond the individual survivalist to the need for at least a village. The Indians of the American Great Plains, with very minimalist technology, still lived in villages of several hundred or more people. Few survivalists seem to be building villages, only isolated strongholds for a tiny group.
My third complaint is the matter of timing one's run for safety. If one is too slow to go, you get caught in the whatever: nuclear blast, riots, etc. Few survivalists have made the decision that now is the time to run. I would argue that if you really believe you will need to run, then it is better to do it sooner rather than later. If nothing else, it may take years of practice to acquire the necessary skills to live that life, or even to discover that you have overlooked something critical in your stockpiles (how many pounds of salt is enough?). Since I'm not willing to live that way now, chances seem good that even if I managed to run away at precisely the right time, I wouldn't be particularly good at the necessary skills, nor have time to acquire them.
My final complaint is that survivalists are too pessimistic. In one sense, their approach to the problem is that there are no other solutions. With respect to modern tech and energy resources, I don't believe that. Oh, there's no doubt that parts of the world are going to have disastrously bad outcomes; too many people, too little local energy and other resources. But things are not distributed uniformly. I think that most of Africa is a lost cause, as soon as long-distance shipping of bulk grain disappears. I think that Bangladesh is probably even worse. Closer to home, I suspect that in the US, the BosWash corridor is going to have a fairly tough time, but hold out considerable hope for the western US from the Rocky Mountain States to the Pacific (well, ignoring Las Vegas). That region, with large renewable resources relative to its population and energy demands, has a chance to maintain an electrified high-tech civilization. Not "business as usual", but recognizable.
Survivalists are not a new phenomenon, although the most-commonly feared disaster that requires fleeing the cities has varied over time. Starting when I was a lad in the late 1950s and early 1960s, I have read survivalists who believed they would have to flee (in rough chronological order): a nuclear exchange with the Soviet Union, massive riots by minority groups, a New World Order brought about by the United Nations, and an economic and social crash due to a permanent loss of petroleum supplies. Through it all, I have declined to be convinced. Not because the survivalists are necessarily wrong about the burning cities, but because of philosophical disagreements about survivalism as a basic strategy.
My first complaint is that many survivalists approach it as a short-term tactic: stockpiles of canned food, guns, ammunition, toilet paper. At some point, that all runs out. Maybe in weeks, maybe in years, but at some point, the stocked supplies from a contemporary civilization are gone. Absent the civilization, there's no such thing as a resupply, either. There are also accidents to consider. A rifle is only one unfortunate drop from a bent barrel, which transforms it from a sophisticated long-distance weapon into a badly-designed club. If the survivalist's intent is to provide for their own, and their family's, indefinite survival, many of them are stocking the wrong things.
My second complaint is that when you start making a list of the minimal skill set you want to preserve that doesn't depend on current society and technology, it quickly becomes apparent that no individual has the time to practice all of them. Consider the problem of producing a simple pair of trousers. Agriculture to grow flax or hemp. An understanding of the process to separate out the fibers. Some form of spinning -- and some are quite simple -- to produce thread or yarn. A loom to weave cloth. Something to cut the cloth. Needles to sew the pieces together. Add other technologies and you add the need for more experts: a carpenter, a blacksmith, a potter. Pretty quickly, you've moved beyond the individual survivalist to the need for at least a village. The Indians of the American Great Plains, with very minimalist technology, still lived in villages of several hundred or more people. Few survivalists seem to be building villages, only isolated strongholds for a tiny group.
My third complaint is the matter of timing one's run for safety. If one is too slow to go, you get caught in the whatever: nuclear blast, riots, etc. Few survivalists have made the decision that now is the time to run. I would argue that if you really believe you will need to run, then it is better to do it sooner rather than later. If nothing else, it may take years of practice to acquire the necessary skills to live that life, or even to discover that you have overlooked something critical in your stockpiles (how many pounds of salt is enough?). Since I'm not willing to live that way now, chances seem good that even if I managed to run away at precisely the right time, I wouldn't be particularly good at the necessary skills, nor have time to acquire them.
My final complaint is that survivalists are too pessimistic. In one sense, their approach to the problem is that there are no other solutions. With respect to modern tech and energy resources, I don't believe that. Oh, there's no doubt that parts of the world are going to have disastrously bad outcomes; too many people, too little local energy and other resources. But things are not distributed uniformly. I think that most of Africa is a lost cause, as soon as long-distance shipping of bulk grain disappears. I think that Bangladesh is probably even worse. Closer to home, I suspect that in the US, the BosWash corridor is going to have a fairly tough time, but hold out considerable hope for the western US from the Rocky Mountain States to the Pacific (well, ignoring Las Vegas). That region, with large renewable resources relative to its population and energy demands, has a chance to maintain an electrified high-tech civilization. Not "business as usual", but recognizable.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
The Gig Economy
On multiple occasions over the last several days, I've bumped into discussions -- some online, some live -- about the growing "gig economy". Described simply, these are people who work from home (or as is often pictured, the nearest coffee shop with free wifi), taking on small projects as independent contractors. These are not the high-powered contractors that I knew during my time in the telecommunications industry, being paid large amounts because they brought highly specialized skills to a particular problem; these are the hard-scrabble tenant-farmers of the information age. The consensus of the people I've heard and/or read is that this is inevitable, and perhaps even desirable.
I disagree; I think it will be a disaster in the long term. I admit to a certain bias, of course. I spent six years in college learning my craft. While I was good at it, it took (at least IMO) three additional years to learn enough about the business that I could be trusted without oversight. I spent 25 years in large corporations and eventually left with a pension and personal savings that are probably enough to support my spouse and I in retirement, assuming that the politicians allow some form of Medicare to operate for another 25 years or so. I know that things have changed in corporate America, and that I got as good a deal as I did only because I started a long time ago.
There are parts of the economy that don't fit the gig model. Jobs where people need to show up at a specified place, at a specified time, day in and day out. Policemen, teachers, workers on assembly lines,... it's a long list. These are jobs that have historically come with benefits: paid time off, pension contributions, group health insurance1. The gig economy, at least the version that has been described to me, comes with none of those. There would seem to be two ways to approach the situation.
One of those would be to simply say "tough". If you can't (or won't, always a possibility) tie yourself to a traditional job, then you're going to have to manage to pay for your own health care, save more for your retirement, and so forth. This becomes increasingly difficult as you get older, particularly the health care. Because income is probably intermittent on some scale, it may be difficult to acquire a mortgage or other long-term debt. There are a variety of problems that arise if you decide you want kids. In this "tough" case, those working on gigs would seem to be much more marginally attached to the society, and I would expect them to harbor some sort of resentment towards the people with the benefits.
The other way would look much more like other OECD countries. Single-payer health care, a more generous public pension system, and some sort of minimum income guarantee are some of the pieces of that. In this case, it seems possible that resentment would run the other way. People who aren't a part of the gig economy might feel that they are giving up considerable freedom for little gain, or that their more regular contributions towards the services is a subsidy for those whose contributions are more irregular.
The "real" solution, of course, is an economy that provides regular work for everyone who wants it. Post WWII, the implicit social contract in the United States has been that business would be (relatively compared to most of the OECD) lightly regulated and taxed, and in exchange they would provide employment with benefits. At least since the 1990-1 recession, this contract has been breaking down. Non-gig jobs have been steadily replaced by automation or moved to locations where the workers can't follow. Somehow, we need to fix that.
1 The benefit here is not just the employer's tax-free contribution towards premiums. There are also the considerations of guaranteed issue, coverage of pre-existing conditions, and premium levels based on the group's luck, not just the individual's.
I disagree; I think it will be a disaster in the long term. I admit to a certain bias, of course. I spent six years in college learning my craft. While I was good at it, it took (at least IMO) three additional years to learn enough about the business that I could be trusted without oversight. I spent 25 years in large corporations and eventually left with a pension and personal savings that are probably enough to support my spouse and I in retirement, assuming that the politicians allow some form of Medicare to operate for another 25 years or so. I know that things have changed in corporate America, and that I got as good a deal as I did only because I started a long time ago.
There are parts of the economy that don't fit the gig model. Jobs where people need to show up at a specified place, at a specified time, day in and day out. Policemen, teachers, workers on assembly lines,... it's a long list. These are jobs that have historically come with benefits: paid time off, pension contributions, group health insurance1. The gig economy, at least the version that has been described to me, comes with none of those. There would seem to be two ways to approach the situation.
One of those would be to simply say "tough". If you can't (or won't, always a possibility) tie yourself to a traditional job, then you're going to have to manage to pay for your own health care, save more for your retirement, and so forth. This becomes increasingly difficult as you get older, particularly the health care. Because income is probably intermittent on some scale, it may be difficult to acquire a mortgage or other long-term debt. There are a variety of problems that arise if you decide you want kids. In this "tough" case, those working on gigs would seem to be much more marginally attached to the society, and I would expect them to harbor some sort of resentment towards the people with the benefits.
The other way would look much more like other OECD countries. Single-payer health care, a more generous public pension system, and some sort of minimum income guarantee are some of the pieces of that. In this case, it seems possible that resentment would run the other way. People who aren't a part of the gig economy might feel that they are giving up considerable freedom for little gain, or that their more regular contributions towards the services is a subsidy for those whose contributions are more irregular.
The "real" solution, of course, is an economy that provides regular work for everyone who wants it. Post WWII, the implicit social contract in the United States has been that business would be (relatively compared to most of the OECD) lightly regulated and taxed, and in exchange they would provide employment with benefits. At least since the 1990-1 recession, this contract has been breaking down. Non-gig jobs have been steadily replaced by automation or moved to locations where the workers can't follow. Somehow, we need to fix that.
1 The benefit here is not just the employer's tax-free contribution towards premiums. There are also the considerations of guaranteed issue, coverage of pre-existing conditions, and premium levels based on the group's luck, not just the individual's.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Cross-State Air Pollution Rule
Yesterday I posted a bit about the substantial differences in both the amount and type of sources used for generating electrical power in eastern and western states[1]. The take-away -- or at least, what was supposed to be the take-away -- was the need for substantially different energy policies for East and West. Of course, once I had written that something would happen, it turns out that that something is already happening, so I look uninformed at best and stupid at worst. Well, it's not the first time that it's ever happened to me, and is unlikely to be the last.
In July, the federal EPA finalized its Cross-State Air Pollution Rule (CSAPR). Beginning in January of 2012, this rule requires 28 eastern, midwestern, and southern states to reduce power plant emissions -- primarily coal-burning power plants -- of some or all of sulfur dioxide, nitrous oxides, and fine particulate matter[2]. Of the 48 contiguous states, those excluded are my 11-state West, the two Dakotas, the six New England states east of New York, and Delaware. This is not to say that the excluded states don't have air pollution problems; they are excluded because their emissions don't contribute to violations of air pollution standards in other, downwind, states. The EPA will issue a federal implementation plan for each state; states may replace the EPA's plan with a different state plan that achieves the same reductions.
Power generators in many states oppose the CSAPR; those of Texas seem to be particularly incensed. Part of the opposition to the rule is due to the increased costs that will be forced on operators of the coal-fired plants, which will presumably result in higher prices for consumers (or lower profits for corporations, depending on what state regulators do). This is an example of the "austerity" that I asserted would be forced on the East, but not the West, due to the East's much heavier dependence on coal-fired generation. But Texas is concerned not just about prices. The Texas Public Utilities Commission requested that the Electricity Reliability Council of Texas (ERCOT) examine the consequences of CSAPR on reliability of the electricity supply.
ERCOT released its report [PDF] last week. ERCOT is concerned that CSAPR will result, at least in the short term, in decreased availability of electrical power. In their worst-case scenario, in which Texas generators are unable to obtain sufficient supplies of low-sulfur coal from Wyoming, generating capacity is estimated to be reduced by 3,000 MW in April-May, by 1,400 MW in January-February and June-September, and by 6,000 MW in October-December. ERCOT believes that if CSAPR had been in force this year then it would have been necessary to impose rolling blackouts on some days in August. That's another, less pleasant, form of austerity.
The EPA's acid rain reduction program in the 1990s, which achieved quite large reductions in emissions of sulfur dioxide from coal-fired plants, is often used as a "poster child" for cap-and-trade programs. The CSAPR differs from that program in two important particulars. Trading in emission allowances between states will be significantly restricted. And when the program was put in place in the 1990s, generators were allowed multiple years to prepare before the reduction program began. ERCOT points out that the short timetable for CSAPR makes it difficult for generators to use some options. For example, one of the unexpected outcomes in the 1990s was the large expansion of coal mining in Wyoming's Powder River basin, and the corresponding expansion of the railroads' ability to move large amounts of Wyoming coal to eastern power plants. A large increase in either capacity is unlikely to be possible by the beginning of 2012.
CSAPR addresses some of the "easy" pollutants emitted by coal-fired generating plants. Proven technologies exist for reducing all of sulfur dioxide, nitrous oxides, and fine particulate matter. The tough one is yet to come: carbon dioxide. Barring action by Congress, carbon dioxide regulation is coming, though: the Supreme Court has ruled that carbon dioxide is a pollutant under the definitions of the Clean Air Act, and that the EPA may not decline to regulate it. The impacts of that will be much larger than those of the CSAPR.
[1] For my purposes, "West" is defined to be the 11 states from the Rocky Mountains to the Pacific Coast, Alaska and Hawaii are simply ignored, and "East" is defined to be the remaining 37 states.
[2] 2.5 micrometers or less in diameter.
In July, the federal EPA finalized its Cross-State Air Pollution Rule (CSAPR). Beginning in January of 2012, this rule requires 28 eastern, midwestern, and southern states to reduce power plant emissions -- primarily coal-burning power plants -- of some or all of sulfur dioxide, nitrous oxides, and fine particulate matter[2]. Of the 48 contiguous states, those excluded are my 11-state West, the two Dakotas, the six New England states east of New York, and Delaware. This is not to say that the excluded states don't have air pollution problems; they are excluded because their emissions don't contribute to violations of air pollution standards in other, downwind, states. The EPA will issue a federal implementation plan for each state; states may replace the EPA's plan with a different state plan that achieves the same reductions.
Power generators in many states oppose the CSAPR; those of Texas seem to be particularly incensed. Part of the opposition to the rule is due to the increased costs that will be forced on operators of the coal-fired plants, which will presumably result in higher prices for consumers (or lower profits for corporations, depending on what state regulators do). This is an example of the "austerity" that I asserted would be forced on the East, but not the West, due to the East's much heavier dependence on coal-fired generation. But Texas is concerned not just about prices. The Texas Public Utilities Commission requested that the Electricity Reliability Council of Texas (ERCOT) examine the consequences of CSAPR on reliability of the electricity supply.
ERCOT released its report [PDF] last week. ERCOT is concerned that CSAPR will result, at least in the short term, in decreased availability of electrical power. In their worst-case scenario, in which Texas generators are unable to obtain sufficient supplies of low-sulfur coal from Wyoming, generating capacity is estimated to be reduced by 3,000 MW in April-May, by 1,400 MW in January-February and June-September, and by 6,000 MW in October-December. ERCOT believes that if CSAPR had been in force this year then it would have been necessary to impose rolling blackouts on some days in August. That's another, less pleasant, form of austerity.
The EPA's acid rain reduction program in the 1990s, which achieved quite large reductions in emissions of sulfur dioxide from coal-fired plants, is often used as a "poster child" for cap-and-trade programs. The CSAPR differs from that program in two important particulars. Trading in emission allowances between states will be significantly restricted. And when the program was put in place in the 1990s, generators were allowed multiple years to prepare before the reduction program began. ERCOT points out that the short timetable for CSAPR makes it difficult for generators to use some options. For example, one of the unexpected outcomes in the 1990s was the large expansion of coal mining in Wyoming's Powder River basin, and the corresponding expansion of the railroads' ability to move large amounts of Wyoming coal to eastern power plants. A large increase in either capacity is unlikely to be possible by the beginning of 2012.
CSAPR addresses some of the "easy" pollutants emitted by coal-fired generating plants. Proven technologies exist for reducing all of sulfur dioxide, nitrous oxides, and fine particulate matter. The tough one is yet to come: carbon dioxide. Barring action by Congress, carbon dioxide regulation is coming, though: the Supreme Court has ruled that carbon dioxide is a pollutant under the definitions of the Clean Air Act, and that the EPA may not decline to regulate it. The impacts of that will be much larger than those of the CSAPR.
[1] For my purposes, "West" is defined to be the 11 states from the Rocky Mountains to the Pacific Coast, Alaska and Hawaii are simply ignored, and "East" is defined to be the remaining 37 states.
[2] 2.5 micrometers or less in diameter.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Regional electricity sources
8-14-12 -- This essay contains numerical errors due to an error in software I wrote for extracting summary information from an EIA spreadsheet. I'm leaving the erroneous figures here in the interests of honesty -- I made a mistake. A corrected version of this piece has been added.
Earlier this year I posted a piece that observed that in the US, nuclear power was largely an Eastern phenomenon. I was curious about other differences in the sources for electrical power in the East and West portions of the US. The EIA publishes numbers for electricity generation by state and "fuel". Several caveats go with the following discussion:
The share provided by the five largest sources of generation for the West and East are shown in the following table. As expected, there are fairly dramatic differences between the two regions. The East depends much more on coal and nuclear (about 70% of their total) than the West does (about 40%). If conventional hydro power is counted as renewable, then the West gets about one-quarter of its electricity from renewable sources. Western wind, with a value of 0.0181, was close behind geothermal as a renewable source in 2007, and has almost certainly moved into the fifth spot by today.
The next table shows the top ten sources of electricity by region and source overall. Depending on your biases, the table is making any of several different points. I'll stick to the one that says the table shows the need for two distinct energy policies (at least with respect to electricity) in the US, one for the West and one for the East. The problems of replacing the power from an aging fleet of nuclear reactors is an Eastern problem. The problems of replacing large amounts of coal generation in order to address climate change issues is an Eastern problem. When the time comes -- and I believe it will -- when the East requires a heavy dose of austerity, in terms of sizable per-capita reductions in electricity use, it will be difficult to justify imposing the same degree of pain on the West.
Earlier this year I posted a piece that observed that in the US, nuclear power was largely an Eastern phenomenon. I was curious about other differences in the sources for electrical power in the East and West portions of the US. The EIA publishes numbers for electricity generation by state and "fuel". Several caveats go with the following discussion:
- Figures are for calendar year 2007, the last year before the recession.
- Hawaii and Alaska are excluded.
- "West" is the 11 states from the Rockies to the Pacific Coast, "East" is the other 37 contiguous states.
- Pumped-hydro power is excluded -- it's minor and in some states has a negative value, which just confuses things.
The share provided by the five largest sources of generation for the West and East are shown in the following table. As expected, there are fairly dramatic differences between the two regions. The East depends much more on coal and nuclear (about 70% of their total) than the West does (about 40%). If conventional hydro power is counted as renewable, then the West gets about one-quarter of its electricity from renewable sources. Western wind, with a value of 0.0181, was close behind geothermal as a renewable source in 2007, and has almost certainly moved into the fifth spot by today.
The next table shows the top ten sources of electricity by region and source overall. Depending on your biases, the table is making any of several different points. I'll stick to the one that says the table shows the need for two distinct energy policies (at least with respect to electricity) in the US, one for the West and one for the East. The problems of replacing the power from an aging fleet of nuclear reactors is an Eastern problem. The problems of replacing large amounts of coal generation in order to address climate change issues is an Eastern problem. When the time comes -- and I believe it will -- when the East requires a heavy dose of austerity, in terms of sizable per-capita reductions in electricity use, it will be difficult to justify imposing the same degree of pain on the West.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
College Football Conspiracy Theories
Ordinarily, I'm inclined to discount rumors about intrigue and conspiracy theories. I'm more inclined to the philosophy that "most things can be explained by greed and/or stupidity." Historically, though, I do set aside time on alternate Tuesdays to believe in conspiracies. This isn't a Tuesday, but I have a conspiracy theory regarding the timing of Texas A&M's announcement that they are leaving the Big 12 conference. Bear with me; it does connect (tenuously) to public policy.
During the summer of 2010, several changes in college conference line-ups occurred. In the Big 12, Colorado left for the Pac 10 and Nebraska for the Big 10. In certain ways, those changes made sense. The Colorado football program has always recruited heavily on the West Coast. In some ways, Boulder in particular and Colorado in general has a cultural focus that looks West rather than East. And while a good deal of Nebraska's motivation appeared to be "anywhere that Texas isn't," the bulk of Nebraska's population is in the eastern portion of the state and the culture there is a better match with the Big 10 states than with Texas (or Oklahoma, for that matter).
At the same time, there were lots of rumors about schools in the Big 12 South. Four teams to the Pac 10; three or four teams to the SEC; Texas to the Big 10. None of which came to pass, of course. When the rumors were flying hot and heavy, some prominent members of the Texas state legislature weighed in. In particular, they took the position that at least Texas and Texas A&M were a bundle that wouldn't be separated, and if necessary, things could be added to statute during the upcoming legislative session to ensure that. The Texas legislature only meets -- absent special sessions -- every other year. Having completed the 2011 session, they won't be back together until 2013.
In light of this week's announcement, it appears that Texas A&M wasn't a whole lot happier about being in a football conference skewed in favor of the University of Texas than Nebraska was. Unlike conferences like the SEC and Big 10, television revenue in the Big 12 is not shared equally by the member schools. Unlike the Pac 10 and the Big 10, schools in the Big 12 are allowed to have their own sports "networks". Under the Big 12 rules, UT has historically captured a larger share of the conference's television revenue than some of the other schools. And the Longhorn Network, a venture of UT and ESPN, is scheduled to launch next week. The network is regarded by many as an enormous recruiting advantage for UT.
So where, you ask, is the intrigue? It's in the timing of the A&M announcement. By jumping ship now, A&M has done an end-around on the the Texas legislature. Assuming that A&M has lined up the nine votes needed to join the SEC (and essentially everyone seems to assume that's the case), they are in the position of being able to join that conference and play an entire football season there before the legislature meets again. It's one thing to pass a law joining UT and A&M at the hip for deals to be made in the future; it's quite another to pass a law that attempts to overturn existing contracts, particularly where interstate commerce is involved. And in Texas, only the governor can call a special session, and the special session can only consider matters listed by the government in that call. Rick Perry is rather busy just now running for President, and calling a special session to deal with college football isn't consistent with the kind of image I think he's trying to project.
So, kudos to A&M for getting away from UT, and for maneuvering things so that the biggest hurdle to accomplishing that -- the Texas legislature -- is taken out of the game. As for UT [disclosure: I have an MS from Austin, and got a good education for two years there], things seem to have backfired on them. It certainly looks like they are now stuck in a slowly dying conference (didn't they learn anything when the SWC fell apart in the 1990s?). But I think we can put that down to greed and stupidity, not intrigue.
During the summer of 2010, several changes in college conference line-ups occurred. In the Big 12, Colorado left for the Pac 10 and Nebraska for the Big 10. In certain ways, those changes made sense. The Colorado football program has always recruited heavily on the West Coast. In some ways, Boulder in particular and Colorado in general has a cultural focus that looks West rather than East. And while a good deal of Nebraska's motivation appeared to be "anywhere that Texas isn't," the bulk of Nebraska's population is in the eastern portion of the state and the culture there is a better match with the Big 10 states than with Texas (or Oklahoma, for that matter).
At the same time, there were lots of rumors about schools in the Big 12 South. Four teams to the Pac 10; three or four teams to the SEC; Texas to the Big 10. None of which came to pass, of course. When the rumors were flying hot and heavy, some prominent members of the Texas state legislature weighed in. In particular, they took the position that at least Texas and Texas A&M were a bundle that wouldn't be separated, and if necessary, things could be added to statute during the upcoming legislative session to ensure that. The Texas legislature only meets -- absent special sessions -- every other year. Having completed the 2011 session, they won't be back together until 2013.
In light of this week's announcement, it appears that Texas A&M wasn't a whole lot happier about being in a football conference skewed in favor of the University of Texas than Nebraska was. Unlike conferences like the SEC and Big 10, television revenue in the Big 12 is not shared equally by the member schools. Unlike the Pac 10 and the Big 10, schools in the Big 12 are allowed to have their own sports "networks". Under the Big 12 rules, UT has historically captured a larger share of the conference's television revenue than some of the other schools. And the Longhorn Network, a venture of UT and ESPN, is scheduled to launch next week. The network is regarded by many as an enormous recruiting advantage for UT.
So where, you ask, is the intrigue? It's in the timing of the A&M announcement. By jumping ship now, A&M has done an end-around on the the Texas legislature. Assuming that A&M has lined up the nine votes needed to join the SEC (and essentially everyone seems to assume that's the case), they are in the position of being able to join that conference and play an entire football season there before the legislature meets again. It's one thing to pass a law joining UT and A&M at the hip for deals to be made in the future; it's quite another to pass a law that attempts to overturn existing contracts, particularly where interstate commerce is involved. And in Texas, only the governor can call a special session, and the special session can only consider matters listed by the government in that call. Rick Perry is rather busy just now running for President, and calling a special session to deal with college football isn't consistent with the kind of image I think he's trying to project.
So, kudos to A&M for getting away from UT, and for maneuvering things so that the biggest hurdle to accomplishing that -- the Texas legislature -- is taken out of the game. As for UT [disclosure: I have an MS from Austin, and got a good education for two years there], things seem to have backfired on them. It certainly looks like they are now stuck in a slowly dying conference (didn't they learn anything when the SWC fell apart in the 1990s?). But I think we can put that down to greed and stupidity, not intrigue.
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