Abundance or Austerity: Nuclear Energy, Political Dysfunction, and the U.S. Climate Crossroads

Eric Anders
May 28
34 min read

Dysfunction in U.S. Climate Politics and the Nuclear Energy Taboo

By Eric W. Anders, Ph.D., Psy.D.

Introduction

Introduction: Abundance Begins with Nuclear

The so-called “abundance agenda”—championed in recent years by policy thinkers like Jonathan Chait and Ezra Klein—emerged as a response to the sclerosis that has overtaken the American left. Yet if abundance is to mean more than a gesture toward optimism—if it is to mark a real departure from the procedural, pessimistic, and scarcity-driven ideologies that have paralyzed climate action—it must define itself not only by what it affirms, but by what it rejects. And it must begin by rejecting its most seductive counterfeit: the “renewables-only” ideology.

This ideology is not merely mistaken. It is cultish: rooted in emotional absolutism, allergic to technological pluralism, and suspicious of modernity itself. It frames decarbonization not as an opportunity for transformation and material progress, but as an exercise in restraint and renunciation. Energy abundance is treated as indulgence. Landscapes must be left untouched. Human development itself is cast as the original sin. This is not abundance. It is austerity draped in green—a spiritual politics of climate penance that fears the very power it needs to wield.

The clearest test of this schism—between abundance and austerity, between building and blocking—is nuclear energy.

Nuclear power remains the most scalable, land-efficient, and reliable source of zero-carbon electricity ever developed. It is the only technology that has already decarbonized a major economy at national scale. After the 1973 oil embargo, France pursued a rapid, socialist-led buildout of nuclear energy to achieve energy independence and social equity—what we might now call energy justice. In just over a decade, it created one of the cleanest, most affordable electricity grids in the world. That was abundance: state-led, technologically ambitious, and socially egalitarian.

Today’s environmental establishment has not only abandoned nuclear power—it has turned opposition to it into a defining moral stance. Organizations like Greenpeace and NRDC continue to brand nuclear a “false solution,” while advancing the fiction that wind and solar alone can replace fossil fuels at scale, on time, and without massive overbuild or new storage technologies. This is not strategy; it’s theology. The result is a movement that calls itself climate-focused while actively blocking the most proven tool for rapid decarbonization. Grid instability grows. Emissions rebound. And the public, increasingly skeptical, begins to tune out the whole transition.

Much of this failure rests on a foundation of distortion. The anti-nuclear case is saturated with misinformation, but one of its most quietly corrosive tactics is rhetorical minimization. A prime example is the habit of calling nuclear energy merely “low-carbon.” Technically, that label is more defensible for renewables like hydro, which have significantly higher lifecycle emissions than nuclear, along with devastating ecological and cultural costs—decimating river systems, endangering Indigenous sovereignty, and annihilating migratory species like salmon. Nuclear, by contrast, is not just low-carbon—it is ultra-low-carbon. According to the IPCC, nuclear energy produces fewer grams of CO₂-equivalent per kilowatt-hour than both wind and solar. Yet only nuclear is consistently branded in a way that diminishes its contribution. Imagine if nuclear advocates referred to solar and wind as “moderate-carbon” or labeled hydro “the anti-Indigenous energy source.” The outcry would be immediate—but not justified. And yet when it comes to nuclear, this kind of linguistic sabotage is not only tolerated, it’s institutionalized. It reflects a movement that has abandoned analytical integrity in favor of tribal purity, and in doing so, undercuts the very climate goals it claims to uphold.

The second lie is more serious and persistent: that nuclear waste poses an unsolvable problem. This is simply false. France has demonstrated for decades that nuclear waste can be safely managed through well-regulated, long-term storage strategies without incident. Its example proves what the anti-nuclear movement refuses to admit: that modern societies are capable of responsibly handling complex infrastructure when they choose to act with seriousness and institutional competence. Meanwhile, the vast and largely unaddressed waste streams from solar panels, wind turbines, and batteries—laden with toxic materials, rare earths, and non-recyclable components—are rarely acknowledged, let alone scrutinized with comparable rigor. The “nuclear waste problem” persists not because of its substance, but because of its rhetorical utility: it conjures catastrophe where there is, in fact, order.

The third and most deeply embedded lie is that nuclear is uniquely dangerous. In reality, it is among the safest energy sources ever developed. Per unit of electricity generated, nuclear has the lowest mortality rate of any major energy technology—lower than coal, oil, gas, biomass, and even hydropower. Yet this truth is consistently buried under imagery of meltdowns and mushroom clouds, deployed not as analysis but as affect. The myth survives because it is essential to a worldview that fetishizes decentralization, fears scale, and treats technological ambition as inherently suspect. These narratives do not serve the climate—they serve the ideological comfort of those unwilling to reconcile with the real demands of transition. In defending these distortions, the anti-nuclear movement has not simply erred; it has immobilized what should have been a politics of planetary urgency.

This essay argues that nuclear power is not merely compatible with the abundance agenda—it is its most vital expression.

In other words, if abundance politics is, as Chait argues, about proving that democratic government can still build boldly, overcome bureaucratic paralysis, and deliver collective material progress, then nuclear power is its perfect case in point: a proven, large-scale, ultra-low-carbon technology that requires precisely the kind of state capacity, regulatory reform, and public ambition abundance demands. To embrace abundance while excluding nuclear is to hollow out the agenda from within—to cling to the aesthetics of progress while rejecting its most concrete and scalable form.

To exclude it from the energy transition is not a policy disagreement; it is a capitulation to symbolic purity over material reality, to identity over evidence. As Jonathan Chait puts it, the abundance agenda is “a unified program to reverse all these retrograde ideas”—to demonstrate that democratic institutions can still function, build, and deliver. A climate movement that rejects nuclear has already conceded the opposite: that scale, complexity, and state-led solutions are inherently suspect. In that sense, renewables-only purism mirrors the fossil fundamentalism of the American right, which clings to deregulation and extraction with an equally apocalyptic fervor.

What follows is an examination of how both ideological camps—left and right—have come to sabotage the very future they claim to protect. The left, trapped in a regulatory reflex inherited from 20th-century environmentalism, has become a brake on the infrastructure required to decarbonize. The right, beholden to fossil fuel interests and petrostate geopolitics, works to obstruct every alternative that might threaten the oil-and-gas status quo. The result is a politics of paralysis: the appearance of climate action without its substance, and the slow erosion of the public’s faith that anything serious can still be built.

To move forward, we must do more than invoke abundance—we must define it. Abundance, if it is to mean anything, must mean:

Investing in infrastructure at the scale of the crisis
Trusting science over superstition and sentiment
Empowering institutions to act, not merely consult
Embracing modernity and the built environment as tools of justice
Building clean energy systems that function in the real world—not just in rhetoric

If the term abundance proves too porous, too easily co-opted, then let us refine the language. Here are five alternate names that more sharply capture its aims:

Transition Realism – Grounded in technological feasibility and political clarity
Climate Modernism – Reclaims the spirit of large-scale, state-led progress
Pro-Build Environmentalism – Puts construction, not conservationism, at the center
Clean Growth Coalition – Links decarbonization with shared prosperity
Democratic Competence Politics – Names the project of institutional reconstruction

Whatever we call it, the task ahead is not simply to build. It is to rebuild trust—in government, in expertise, and in our collective capacity to secure a livable future. And that begins with a truth too long silenced: we will not decarbonize fast enough without nuclear power.

Only by acknowledging that—without caveat, without apology—can we say we stand on the side of abundance.

The so-called “abundance agenda” has been championed in recent years by a group of progressive policy thinkers—Jonathan Chait and Ezra Klein chief among them—as a corrective to the sclerosis and self-sabotage that have overtaken the American left. But if abundance is to be more than a rhetorical flourish—if it is to offer a serious alternative to the austerity politics that have paralyzed climate action—then its boundaries must be clearly drawn. And that means drawing a hard line between abundance and its most dangerous counterfeit: the renewables-only ideology that dominates much of today’s environmentalist discourse.

This ideology is not merely wrong; it is cultish, characterized by dogma, emotional purity, and a deep hostility to pluralism and pragmatism. At its core lies a vision of decarbonization as sacrifice, rather than progress—a worldview in which energy must be downsized, landscapes must be preserved untouched, and modern life itself must be curbed to avoid ecological sin. This is not abundance. It is a revival of anti-modern austerity cloaked in green.

The litmus test for this schism is, and always has been, nuclear power.

Nuclear energy provides the most scalable, land-efficient, and reliable form of zero-carbon electricity ever developed. It is the only clean energy technology that has already decarbonized a major economy at national scale. France, beginning in the 1970s under a socialist-led “Messmer Plan,” used nuclear to escape the vulnerability of oil imports after the 1973 embargo. It built out one of the world’s most successful clean grids in just over a decade—achieving what today's renewable maximalists can only theorize.

That was true abundance politics: state-led, technologically ambitious, socially egalitarian. Yet today’s American environmental movement has abandoned that model. Instead, groups like Greenpeace and NRDC label nuclear a “false solution” while embracing land-hungry, intermittent renewables as the only legitimate path forward—despite decades of failure to scale those technologies without fossil backup. The result is predictable: grids become more fragile, emissions stagnate, and trust in the climate transition erodes.

This essay argues that nuclear energy is not simply compatible with abundance politics—it is its clearest expression. The refusal to include nuclear in the clean energy toolkit is the clearest sign that a movement has substituted ideological rigidity for scientific seriousness. It is an epistemological and moral failure—one that mirrors, in a funhouse way, the fossil-fuel fundamentalism of the American right.

In what follows, I explore how both sides of the political spectrum have contributed to this dysfunction. The left, clinging to a regulatory mindset born of 20th-century environmentalism, now often acts as a brake on the very infrastructure we need to survive. The right, in thrall to oil and gas interests, obstructs any climate action not grounded in deregulation and denial. Both forces converge to produce the illusion of action while ensuring inertia.

To recover from this stalemate, we must do more than invoke “abundance.” We must define it with precision and purpose. If abundance means anything, it must mean:

Investing in infrastructure at the scale of the challenge
Trusting science over superstition
Empowering institutions to act, not merely consult
Embracing modernity rather than mourning it
Building clean energy systems that work in the real world—not just in theory or simulation

If the word abundance continues to feel too vague, too easily co-opted, here are five alternate names that may better capture the stakes:

Transition Realism – Anchors the agenda in scientific feasibility and political clarity.
Climate Modernism – Reclaims the modernist spirit of state-led innovation and rational planning.
Pro-Build Environmentalism – Puts the construction of clean infrastructure at the center.
Clean Growth Coalition – Unites ecological integrity with economic prosperity.
Democratic Competence Politics – Names the urgent need to restore institutional functionality.

Whatever we call it, the work ahead is not merely to build. It is to rebuild trust—in government, in expertise, and in our collective ability to create a livable future. And that begins with saying what too many still fear to say aloud: we will not decarbonize fast enough without nuclear power.

Only by making that admission—without caveat, without apology—can we claim to stand on the side of abundance.

SEcond section:

America’s struggle to confront climate change has been hobbled by deep political and epistemological dysfunction. Nowhere is this more evident than in the stalemate over energy policy, where how to achieve a post-carbon future has become a battle of ideologies. On one side, legacy environmentalist movements and many on the left remain wary – even hostile – toward nuclear power, reflexively treating it as a taboo rather than a potential climate solution. On the other side, the American right continues to coddle Big Oil interests and fossil-fuel-aligned petrostates, undermining efforts to transition to clean energy. The result is a policy space riven by mistrust, outdated assumptions, and slow progress.

This essay examines how the American left’s failure to embrace an “abundance” politics—focused on building infrastructure, accelerating innovation, and expanding state capacity—has undermined efforts to forge a serious energy transition. As recently analyzed by Jonathan Chait in The Atlantic (“The Coming Democratic Civil War,” May 2025), the Democratic Party is increasingly divided between those committed to abundance and those clinging to proceduralism and constraint.

At the center of this debate is Ezra Klein, who, alongside fellow abundance advocates like Derek Thompson and Noah Smith, has argued that solving America’s biggest problems—including climate change—requires building more: more clean energy, more housing, more infrastructure. Klein has praised nuclear power as a necessary piece of the climate solution, aligning himself with the broader abundance agenda. Yet this has made him a lightning rod within many of the activist and regulatory groups that see his views as a betrayal of environmentalist orthodoxy. Among "the groups"—the influential, decentralized networks of progressive nonprofits, advocacy organizations, and local activists—Klein is now frequently labeled a technocratic traitor for his willingness to question long-standing procedural and anti-growth dogmas.

Chait’s analysis and Klein’s evolving stance both underscore a central and uncomfortable truth: nuclear energy—perhaps the single most scalable, dispatchable, and infrastructure-ready foundation for a post-carbon abundance agenda—remains marginalized not by scientific uncertainty or technical limitation, but by deeply entrenched ideological commitments across the political spectrum. On the left, decades of anti-nuclear sentiment, born from Cold War fears and fossil-fueled environmentalism, have ossified into dogma, rendering nuclear taboo even in the face of climate catastrophe. On the right, loyalty to fossil fuel interests and petrostate geopolitics has kept nuclear sidelined as a threat to the status quo of extraction and deregulated markets.

The result is not just stagnation—it is a failure of political imagination. The path to meaningful climate progress demands breaking this deadlock: rejecting the scarcity mindset that treats constraint as virtue, severing ties with fossil-fuel indulgence, and embracing the bold infrastructural ambition required to build a thriving, decarbonized future. An abundance agenda that includes nuclear is not a luxury; it is the only path consistent with the scale and urgency of the crisis we face.

The Legacy Environmentalist Roadblock: Nuclear Taboo and Procedural Paralysis

The United States environmental movement has a proud history of fighting pollution and protecting communities – but this legacy has also given rise to an anti-development reflex that now hinders climate action. In the late 1960s and 70s, activists like Ralph Nader, Rachel Carson, and others built a powerful legal apparatus to check government and industry power . Landmark environmental laws such as the National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA) of 1969 were designed to “slow down or block government action” in order to prevent harm . NEPA, for example, created a process for environmental impact statements that has ballooned from roughly 10 pages to hundreds of pages, taking over four years on average to complete . These procedural tools succeeded in stopping many destructive projects – but over time they also made it “cumbersome,” even “impossible,” for the government to execute major public works . As Jonathan Chait observes, the very rules liberals once championed to prevent environmental harm have now “in too many cases…ended up preventing [government] from doing anything at all” .

Nowhere is this paradox more acute than in energy. The environmental movement formed in an era when protecting nature meant stopping construction – blocking highways, dams, pipelines, and yes, nuclear plants. That mindset has proven resistant to change even in the face of climate change, which demands building new infrastructure at an unprecedented scale. Chait notes that “the environmental movement’s highest priority” used to be preserving unspoiled nature by halting development. But today, “preserving nature requires building new infrastructure: green-energy sources, pipelines to transmit energy, and new housing and transportation” to support low-carbon lifestyles . Yet “environmental groups have not, for the most part, altered their desire to stop building, nor have they reconsidered their support for laws that freeze the built environment in place.” This procedural and ideological inertia – a hallmark of legacy environmentalism – now acts as a roadblock to decarbonization.

One victim of this dynamic has been nuclear energy. For decades, prominent green organizations opposed nuclear power on principle, associating it with toxic waste and catastrophic accidents rather than as a carbon-free resource. Many groups remain outright anti-nuclear. For instance, Greenpeace flatly states that “nuclear energy isn’t just bad for the environment, it’s bad for our economy” and continues to lobby against reactors . The Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC) has cheered the shutdown of nuclear plants – helping push for closures of New York’s Indian Point and California’s Diablo Canyon reactors . Likewise, Senator Bernie Sanders wrote off nuclear power as a “false solution” in his Green New Deal manifesto, explicitly vowing “we will not rely on any false solutions like nuclear, geoengineering, [or] carbon capture” . This aversion is shared by many progressive climate activists and organizations, which have long made opposition to nuclear part of their identity.

The consequences of this nuclear taboo are tangible. When the Indian Point nuclear plant – which had supplied about a quarter of New York City’s electricity – was closed in 2021 after years of environmentalist campaigning, it was hailed by activists as a “green” victory . In reality, the shutdown was a climate setback: the plant’s carbon-free power was replaced almost entirely by natural gas, causing New York’s greenhouse emissions to rise. New York City’s electricity became “dirtier than Texas’s, as well as the US average,” and the city’s power-sector emissions jumped so much that experts called it “a real step backwards” and “a cautionary tale” . As one energy policy specialist lamented, “this has left New York in a really challenging spot” for meeting its climate goals . In short, phasing out nuclear in the name of “environmentalism” simply led to more fossil fuel burning – the opposite of what climate action requires.

Similar stories abound. Across the country, major environmental groups frequently line up against clean energy projects when local environmental trade-offs are involved. A recent analysis by commentator Noah Smith found that “America’s biggest green groups are over and over again lining up on the wrong side of decarbonization.” Examples include:

The Audubon Society suing to block wind farms in California (to protect birds in the habitat) .
NRDC campaigning to shut down existing nuclear plants in New York and California (eliminating huge sources of zero-carbon power) .
The Sunrise Movement supporting a moratorium on large solar farms in parts of Massachusetts (over land use concerns) .
The Sierra Club leading opposition to solar projects in Florida, Maryland, California, and Nevada (often citing local wildlife or scenic impacts) .

In Nevada, for instance, the Sierra Club helped derail a 14-square-mile solar array because of “affection for the plot of land” and worries about an endangered desert tortoise . Each of these cases pits decarbonization against conservationist instincts – and time and again the legacy environmental groups choose to protect a local ecosystem or avoid a perceived risk (like nuclear waste) at the expense of the larger

climate imperative. The “trade-offs needed to construct clean energy infrastructure” are deemed too high . The result, as Smith notes, is that organizations founded on conservation – an “inherently small-c conservative” ethos – end up behaving as status-quo forces during a crisis that demands radical change .

This mindset also explains why many progressives have resisted efforts to reform the very permitting and regulatory processes that slow climate action. President Biden’s signature climate legislation, the Inflation Reduction Act of 2022, poured hundreds of billions of dollars into green energy projects and infrastructure. But almost immediately, Democrats discovered that “thanks to a maze of legal impediments, the hundreds of billions of dollars in green-energy infrastructure they had authorized would not materialize any time soon, if at all.” In response, moderate Democrats and the Biden administration pushed for permitting reform – measures to streamline environmental reviews and expedite projects such as wind farms, transmission lines, and even advanced nuclear plants. A proposal in 2022 would have capped environmental reviews at two years and empowered the federal government to plan interstate electrical lines to connect new renewable capacity . Yet this moderate reform met ferocious opposition from two quarters: many Republicans (concerned it might infringe on states’ rights or local control) and hundreds of environmental groups, who attacked the bill for supposedly threatening “environmental justice.” In an open letter, a coalition of green groups argued the reform would “truncate and hollow-out the environmental review process, weaken Tribal consultations, and make it far harder for frontline communities to have their voices heard.”

Because influential climate and environmental activists opposed the permitting bill, most left-wing Democrats followed suit. When the effort collapsed, Senator Bernie Sanders celebrated, declaring “This is a good day for the climate and the environment.” Likewise, Rep. Raúl Grijalva – then chair of the House Natural Resources Committee – proudly touted the death of what activists had dubbed the “Dirty Deal,” thanking the “persistence and vocal opposition of environmental justice communities” for laying it to rest

. In reality, killing permitting reform left countless clean energy projects stranded in bureaucratic limbo,

perpetuating what Chait calls “pointless rules” that have “slowed the green-energy build-out to a crawl.” The progressive opponents of reform insisted that “meaningful community engagement is the key to unlocking our clean-energy future”, as NRDC’s director Christy Goldfuss put it . But this emphasis on exhaustive process over outcomes has simply reinforced the paralysis. As Chait observes, today’s progressives “place greater value on defending the prerogatives of local activists” – the litigation-heavy New Left model of citizen oversight – than on actually building things quickly . In his words, “the New Left model of citizen-activist groups empowered by litigation remains the core of the progressive movement’s theory of governance.” This “legalistic commitment to fragmentary proceduralism” may have noble origins, but in the face of climate change it has become a recipe for gridlock and inadequacy.

Jonathan Chait’s Case for an ‘Abundance Agenda’

Faced with these self-imposed hurdles, a growing cohort of policy thinkers has called for a paradigm shift on the American left: from an ethos of restriction and NIMBYism to one of abundance. As journalist Jonathan Chait detailed in The Atlantic in May 2025, the so-called “abundance agenda” is a reform movement that tackles exactly the bureaucratic knots and anti-growth instincts described above . Chait’s essay, “The Coming Democratic Civil War,” describes how a once-arcane policy debate over zoning rules and permit laws has exploded into a fundamental schism in liberal politics . On one side are the “abundance” proponents – wonks and moderates who argue that democracy must prove it “can still work” by actually delivering tangible improvements like infrastructure, housing, and clean energy. On the other side are

entrenched progressive interest groups whose power derives from the very regulatory status quo the abundance agenda seeks to undo .

Chait traces the roots of the conflict to the disappointments of the Obama and Biden presidencies. Both Democratic administrations aspired to New Deal–style achievements in infrastructure, only to be bogged down by contemporary realities. Obama quipped bitterly that “there’s no such thing as shovel-ready projects” after stimulus-funded plans met delays . Biden, for his part, signed a $1.2 trillion infrastructure law in 2021 and hundreds of billions more for manufacturing and energy in 2022 – only to find, two years later, that “very little had changed” on the ground . By the time he launched his re-election campaign, “only a fraction of the funds…were spent” and hardly any projects were yet built . Biden grew “deeply frustrated” that he couldn’t “show off” any new bridges or rail lines . Indeed, more than two years after the infrastructure bill, the average completion date for road projects was projected in 2027, rural broadband expansion had reached zero customers, and a national push for EV charging had yielded a mere 58 new stations . Instead of proving that “democracy can deliver,” Biden’s first term risked proving the opposite – that even with money in hand, America can’t seem to build anymore .

This sobering realization prompted a wave of introspection among left-leaning experts. As Chait recounts, liberal policy wonks began asking why tasks the government used to accomplish with ease – from erecting the Hoover Dam to rolling out Medicare – had become herculean feats of red tape . They investigated “restrictive zoning ordinances, federal and state permitting regulations, and the government’s administrative procedures” . What they discovered was a thicket of rules and veto points, many originally well-intended, that together strangled progress. The upshot was an epiphany: “the government has tied itself in knots,” and enormous prosperity could be unlocked simply by untying them

. In Chait’s words, these analysts concluded that America must “deregulate the government itself”

untangling the procedural binds – to restore a New Deal–era capacity to get things done .

The “abundance agenda,” a term coined by writer Derek Thompson in 2022 , coalesced around three primary domains of reform :

Housing: Sweep away onerous zoning laws and NIMBY regulations that prevent cities from building enough housing. Over decades, rules banning apartments or mandating excessive parking have made it virtually illegal to add density in many cities, strangling housing supply . The result: sky- high rents, homelessness, and geographic inequality. To fix this, abundance proponents urge upzoning, streamlined approval processes, and incentives to build more homes where people want to live .

Infrastructure: Cut the red tape and bureaucratic delays that have turned American infrastructure projects into “expensive, agonizing nightmares.” The cost of a mile of highway has tripled in a generation , and projects like California’s high-speed rail flounder for decades without completion . Environmental review requirements – while important – must be made more efficient so that green infrastructure (renewable energy facilities, transmission lines, transit) can be built fast. As Chait notes, permitting delays have slowed the clean-energy rollout “to a crawl” . The abundance agenda calls for firm timelines on reviews, fewer duplicative lawsuits, and a general shift from a presumption of blocking to one of building.

State Capacity: Restore the federal government’s ability to actually implement big projects by reforming the “thicket of rules” that enable endless litigation and bureaucratic paralysis . This

ranges from modernizing procurement and simplifying agencies’ mandates to revisiting administrative law doctrines that let any determined opponent tie up public projects in court. In essence, abundance champions want to reclaim the can-do governmental confidence of the mid-20th century by freeing agencies to act nimbly. This means balancing oversight with effectiveness – for example, reforming NEPA to prevent abuse and delays while still safeguarding the environment .

Behind these wonky proposals lies a profound political question: Who should hold power on the left – the builders or the blockers? Chait observes that for decades the Democratic Party’s internal coalitions were defined largely by how closely they hewed to the progressive interest groups’ agenda . The most progressive politicians championed the demands of environmentalists, consumer advocates, etc., while

“moderates” were mostly distinguished by being less enthusiastic or prioritizing other concerns 53 . In

effect, the party had no competing vision to offer – it was “progressivism or progressivism-lite” 53 . The

abundance agenda threatens to upend this dynamic by giving moderates a positive identity and platform of their own: a call to build things for the public good, rather than simply pump brakes more gently. This is why the fight has become so heated. As Chait puts it, the conflict “is really about power” – “who should have the standing to direct” the Democratic Party going forward . Should it be the network of legacy activist groups with their lawsuits and strict rules, or a new coalition focused on material progress and broad-based prosperity?

Chait’s summation of the abundance faction’s appeal is telling. The abundance agenda, he writes, “meets several political needs of the moment.” It responds to the public’s crisis of confidence in government that deepened after COVID-19 by promising visible results . It tackles the high cost of living (housing, energy) by increasing supply and thus lowering prices . It even offers a rebuttal to right-wing libertarians like Elon Musk who attack “state capacity” – abundance liberals insist that smart government action can indeed deliver progress . Importantly, embracing abundance could give Democrats a forward-looking economic vision that starkly contrasts with the scarcity and nostalgia peddled by Donald Trump. Whereas Trump (the presumptive 2024 GOP nominee) preaches a message of making do with less – from telling Americans to tolerate higher prices under his tariffs, to demonizing dense urban development as an attack on “the suburbs” – the abundance agenda preaches investment, building, and more for all. Chait notes that Trump’s actual record was to “defund scientific research, seek to shut down the green-energy transition, and paralyze the bureaucracy with arbitrary restrictions.” In other words, Trumpism combined anti-science and anti-environment impulses with the same kind of bureaucratic sclerosis that abundance liberals decry (albeit via different means, like purges of civil servants and random executive fiats). Against this, abundance politics offers “a unified program to reverse all these retrograde ideas” and an actionable plan to overcome the impediments to doing so .

Chait ultimately frames the stakes in dramatic terms. The allure of Trump for many voters, he argues, was his claim that the system is so broken that “I alone can fix it.” After their experiences in power, Democrats risked validating that cynical view if they could not show government delivering results . Thus, Chait concludes, the left must “decide if they will abandon their legalistic commitment to fragmentary proceduralism or allow Trump’s boast to be vindicated.” In plainer terms: continue down the path of endless process and internal paralysis, and prove the authoritarian right’s point that democracy doesn’t work – or embrace an abundance approach that actually builds things, and restore people’s faith that collective progress is possible. It is a stark challenge, pitting a culture of No against a vision of Yes. And nowhere is this more pointed than in the realm of energy, where saying Yes to nuclear power and clean infrastructure has become, arguably, the acid test of whether the American left can transcend its 20th-century shibboleths.

The Right’s Fossil Fuel Fetish: Big Oil, Petrostates, and Climate Obstruction

While the left wrestles with its anti-nuclear, anti-build neuroses, the American right presents a dysfunction of a different kind: a deep-seated loyalty to the fossil fuel status quo that manifests as climate denial, regulatory rollback, and outright collusion with oil interests. If some progressives are guilty of fighting the last war (treating all large energy projects as suspicious), many conservatives are guilty of fighting reality – denying or downplaying the climate crisis and doubling down on oil, gas, and coal. The Republican Party, in particular, has become the political arm of the fossil fuel industry, often subordinating science-based policy to the short-term interests of coal barons and oil executives. Senator Sheldon Whitehouse, who has investigated climate disinformation, recently described “the fossil fuel industry…running perhaps the biggest campaign of disinformation and political interference in American history” – backed by “immense amounts of political spending.” During the 2024 election cycle, fossil-fuel interests poured an astonishing $96 million into Donald Trump’s re-election campaign and affiliated PACs, and spent another $243 million lobbying Congress . Unsurprisingly, Trump (who has called climate change a hoax) delivered for his backers: in his first weeks back in office, his administration rolled out a spate of pro-fossil fuel policies and attacked regulations on the oil and gas industry . Congressional Republicans fell in line – for instance, using their majority to shut down investigations into Big Oil’s misleading the public on climate risks . What Whitehouse describes is essentially the capture of GOP energy policy by Big Oil, to the point that the party’s agenda often reads like it was drafted in an Exxon boardroom.

This dynamic extends beyond campaign dollars to legislation. In May 2025, House Republicans on the Natural Resources Committee advanced what one watchdog group dubbed an “American Petrostate” budget plan, essentially a giveaway to fossil interests. The proposal would “transfer management and control of hundreds of millions of acres of national public lands to the oil and gas industry,” mandating maximum leasing for drilling on federal lands . “Welcome to the American petrostate,” quipped Public Citizen’s research director in response – noting that this “radical” plan treated U.S. public lands as nothing more than fuel reservoirs for private profit . Similarly, Republican-led states have been actively working to hamstring renewable energy and prop up fossil fuels under the guise of “grid reliability” or “energy freedom.” In Texas, for example, lawmakers recently pushed through legislation requiring that at least 50% of the state’s power generation come from “dispatchable” sources (i.e. natural gas or other fossil fuels), explicitly to “encourage…new natural gas projects” and curb the growth of wind and solar farms . The Texas bill creates a credit system penalizing utilities that rely “too much” on renewable power and even describes tapping the state’s gas reserves as “environmentally beneficial.” In short, it seeks to slow the clean energy buildout in order to entrench gas – a policy practically written by the oil and gas lobby. Other Republican-controlled states have similarly “soured” on renewables, passing laws to block wind and solar projects or to punish companies that invest in climate- friendly portfolios . Under pressure from fossil-fuel-aligned trade groups, red states like West Virginia and Texas have even blacklisted financial firms that adopt ESG (environmental, social, governance) principles, effectively boycotting banks that “discriminate” against oil and coal. The clear intent is to shield the fossil fuel industry from market and policy trends, even if it means higher costs or lost opportunities for their constituents.

The American right’s symbiosis with fossil fuels also influences foreign policy and geopolitical alignments – hence the reference to “petrostates.” During the Trump era, the U.S. cozied up to oil-rich autocracies: giving Saudi Arabia carte blanche (despite human rights outrages) in the interest of oil markets, for instance, and

initially downplaying Russia’s aggression even as Europe’s dependence on Russian gas became a strategic liability. Trump’s mantra of “American Energy Dominance” envisioned the U.S. itself as a top petrostate, maximizing oil and gas production and using energy exports as leverage abroad . Climate analysts noted that this agenda – essentially exploiting fossil fuels “in a country that is already pumping out more crude oil than any other” – sounded eerily like the plan of a petrostate focused on short-term extraction over long-term sustainability . Indeed, a 2024 Inside Climate News report highlighted worries that the U.S. under Trump was behaving “like a petrostate”, subordinating climate action to a fossil-fueled vision of national power. Even as the world’s scientists urged rapid cuts to emissions, Republican leaders were framing oil and gas not as problems to solve but as assets to weaponize. This posture not only delays U.S. decarbonization; it undermines global efforts by emboldening other petrostates to drag their feet. When America – historically the biggest carbon polluter – shirks responsibility and instead champions coal, oil, and gas, it provides political cover for countries like Russia, Saudi Arabia, and others to continue their high- carbon status quo.

Crucially, the right’s fossil-fuel alignment has meant that whenever Democrats have tried to implement climate policies, Republicans either block them or vow to repeal them. Cap-and-trade proposals, carbon tax bills, international accords like Paris – all became partisan casualties. The Inflation Reduction Act’s massive clean energy investments passed with zero GOP votes in Congress. In fact, House Republicans in 2023 introduced bills to repeal the IRA’s climate provisions, claiming (against evidence) that it was wasting money on “unreliable” renewables. Meanwhile, Republican attorneys general teamed up (often backed by dark money) to sue states that tried to hold oil companies accountable for climate damages . The GOP’s climate stance has thus been two-pronged: publicly deny or minimize the need to act (with some still parroting outright climate denial), and quietly ensure their fossil benefactors face as few obstacles as possible. The result is policy incoherence: one party tries to steer toward decarbonization (albeit hampered by its own internal divisions), while the other party effectively stomps the gas pedal toward continued fossil dependence.

This polarization has real costs. America’s oscillating stance on climate – e.g. Trump pulling out of the Paris Agreement, Biden rejoining it, Trump dismantling EPA rules, etc. – makes it difficult to sustain the long-term investments and regulatory certainty that an energy transition needs. It also erodes U.S. credibility on the world stage. How can Washington press China or India to curb coal use when a sizable portion of U.S. leadership rejects climate science and promotes drilling everywhere? By coddling Big Oil and petrostates, the American right not only delays domestic emission cuts, but also contributes to a global political environment in which fossil fuel interests feel empowered to resist change. It is an inversion of the abundance mindset: instead of envisioning a future of clean prosperity, the right clings to anachronistic industries and notions of scarcity (e.g. the idea that we must drill more or else face economic ruin). Ironically, this too is a form of pessimism and austerity – insisting that our economy cannot thrive without 19th-century fuel sources, and that any shift is a threat to “our way of life.” It mirrors the left’s own pessimistic wing that insists society cannot handle advanced technology or growth without courting disaster. In both cases, fear overrides possibility.

Nuclear Energy: From Pariah to Pillar of a Post-Carbon Abundance Agenda

If there is one issue that crystallizes the divide between an abundance approach and the prevailing dysfunctions on both left and right, it is nuclear energy. Nuclear power sits at the intersection of the

ideological conflicts discussed: it is a technological solution capable of providing abundant clean energy, yet it has been vilified by many environmentalists; it is a threat to the fossil fuel industry’s market share, yet it receives only tepid support in U.S. policy due to that industry’s clout. And critically, nuclear energy offers a test of whether our political system can overcome bias and gridlock to do what is rational for the climate and the country’s future.

Nuclear power is arguably the most scalable, realistic foundation for a post-carbon energy system – a necessary component of any abundance scenario that features plentiful, reliable electricity without greenhouse emissions. This isn’t just the view of pro-nuclear advocates; it’s borne out by reams of expert research. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), the world’s leading climate science body, has indicated that dramatic expansion of nuclear is needed to meet global climate targets. In fact, the IPCC’s Sixth Assessment Report found that nuclear generation capacity must nearly double by 2050 to have a chance of limiting warming to 1.5°C . The report explicitly noted that “Nuclear power can deliver low- carbon energy at scale (high confidence)” – a strong affirmation of its importance – though it also cautioned that improving reactor construction costs and management will be vital to realizing that potential

. Numerous studies underscore nuclear’s unique strengths: it produces continuous 24/7 power, requires far less land than equivalent renewable capacity, and has an unparalleled energy density. In the United States, nuclear plants currently provide about 19% of total electricity but nearly 47% of all carbon- free electricity – by far the largest single source of clean power . America’s 94 operating reactors avoid roughly 437 million metric tons of CO₂ emissions each year – equivalent to taking 95 million cars off the road . Globally, nuclear power has prevented an estimated 70 billion tons of CO₂ over the past 50 years that would have been emitted had that electricity come from fossil fuels . And unlike some new technologies, nuclear is a proven climate workhorse: countries like France, Sweden, and Ontario in Canada all decarbonized large shares of their electricity in past decades by deploying nuclear plants at scale, achieving carbon reductions faster than any all-renewable strategy has yet accomplished.

Figure: Diablo Canyon nuclear power plant in California, which environmental groups fought to close before state policymakers reconsidered. Nuclear facilities like this have provided zero-carbon energy for decades. Many

analysts argue that extending the life of existing plants and building next-generation reactors will be essential for a rapid, abundant clean energy transition.

Yet despite these advantages, nuclear energy has long been treated as the black sheep of clean energy – especially in U.S. political discourse. The “false solution” label from parts of the left reflects outdated or exaggerated fears: concerns about reactor safety (which has improved immensely post-Chernobyl), nuclear waste (a technical and political challenge, but one manageable with modern storage techniques), and cost overruns (a real issue in the U.S., though often driven by the very regulatory morass discussed earlier). Meanwhile, the right, while not philosophically opposed to nuclear, has never championed it the way it champions drilling for oil – perhaps because nuclear doesn’t have the same profit incentives for fossil fuel stakeholders, and because supporting it would require acknowledging the need for clean energy in the first place. The result is that nuclear has been politically orphaned: too “technocratic” for the anti-corporate left, and not lucrative enough for the pro-industry right. This is slowly changing – there is growing bipartisan interest in advanced reactors and preserving the current fleet – but progress is slow.

Encouragingly, the tide shows signs of turning. The Biden administration’s Inflation Reduction Act quietly included significant support for nuclear: a new production tax credit (Section 45U) to shore up economically struggling nuclear plants and prevent further premature closures . This reflected an acknowledgment that existing nuclear reactors play an “indispensable role” in meeting climate goals

. At the international level, momentum is building as well. In late 2023 at the COP28 climate summit, 22 countries pledged to triple global nuclear power capacity by 2050, signaling a collective recognition that nuclear must be part of the climate solution set . Even some environmental activists have reconsidered their stance in light of the climate emergency. We have seen prominent climate scientists (e.g. James Hansen) and campaigners urge greens to keep open nuclear plants to avoid emissions spikes. California offers a prime example: after pressure from environmental groups, the state had planned to shutter Diablo Canyon (its last nuclear station) by 2025. But in 2022–2023, confronted with the twin realities of impending power shortfalls and higher emissions, Governor Gavin Newsom and state legislators reversed course and agreed to extend Diablo Canyon’s operation as an emergency measure . This controversial decision underscored a pivotal shift: some on the left are begrudgingly accepting that achieving zero carbon may be impossible without nuclear in the mix . A Newsweek analysis in 2023 noted that the left’s stance on nuclear was moving toward “grudging acceptance” as climate threats mount . Similarly, a Jacobin magazine piece (a socialist publication traditionally hostile to nuclear) conceded that 1970s-style anti- nuclearism had become “a dead end for the Left,” given the urgency of decarbonization .

However, a grudging acceptance is not enough. The scale of the climate crisis and the goal of an abundant energy future demand that nuclear energy be actively embraced and accelerated, not just tolerated as a last resort. To do so, both the left and right will need to shed old shibboleths. For progressives, that means fully internalizing that preserving a livable climate is more important than preserving a 1970s anti-nuclear doctrine. It means following the science: listening when bodies like the IPCC conclude unequivocally that we need more nuclear, and recognizing that betting everything on renewables-plus-storage may be riskier (for both climate and reliability) than having a diverse low-carbon portfolio including nuclear and carbon capture. It also means streamlining regulations that needlessly inflate nuclear construction costs without appreciable safety gains – for example, harmonizing and updating licensing for advanced reactor designs, and reforming NEPA so that anti-nuclear groups cannot hijack it to cause multi-year delays. Notably, the abundance agenda’s focus on cutting red tape could massively benefit new nuclear projects; a modern reactor can be designed to be far safer by default, but if it takes 10+ years to approve and build due to procedural drag, we won’t get them deployed in time.

For conservatives, embracing nuclear could be a way to pivot from climate denial to climate pragmatism without losing face. Nuclear power aligns with values they often tout: energy independence, technological supremacy, and robust economic growth. It’s a domestic source of firm power that can free the U.S. (and allies) from reliance on foreign oil and gas – a strategic advantage against petrostates. By supporting nuclear, Republicans could claim they favor innovation over regulation in addressing climate – funding engineers to invent the future rather than taxing carbon or subsidizing solar panels made in China. Some Republican lawmakers have indeed started to talk up next-generation nuclear and small modular reactors as a preferred alternative to Green New Deal–style policies. But these words need to be backed by deeds: protecting nuclear in budgets, streamlining rules (instead of only doing so for oil drilling), and perhaps most crucially, distancing the party from fossil fuel lobbyists who see any non-fossil energy as competition. It is telling that when climate solutions conflict with oil interests, the current GOP chooses oil. A case in point: in 2022, the same permitting reform bill that would have boosted transmission lines (key for renewables) also would have helped fast-track things like carbon capture pipelines and advanced nuclear plants – ostensibly priorities for Republicans – yet nearly all Republicans still opposed it, largely because their aim was to deny Biden a win and because they disliked federal oversight on energy projects . Partisan reflex trumped a real opportunity to advance an “all of the above” energy infrastructure. This illustrates that without a fundamental recalibration, the right’s cozy relationship with fossil fuels will prevent it from wholeheartedly championing any post-carbon source, nuclear included.

Conclusion: Toward a Sane and Scalable Climate Politics

American climate policy has been paralyzed not by lack of ideas or public support, but by dysfunctional politics and outdated worldviews. On the left, the ghosts of 20th-century environmentalism – distrust of technology, prioritization of procedure over results, “small is beautiful” economic thinking – have led too many to shun the bold measures needed for the 21st century. The reluctance to fully endorse nuclear power, or to expedite the construction of infrastructure, exemplifies an epistemological failure to update assumptions in light of new realities. On the right, a different but equally damaging pathology reigns: a willful blindness to the urgency of climate change and a knee-jerk defense of incumbent industries. By treating fossil fuels as sacrosanct and pandering to petrostate interests, conservatives not only ignore scientific reality but also forfeit the chance to shape an optimistic vision of the future. Instead of pursuing an “abundance agenda” of their own – perhaps one centered on innovation, market incentives for clean tech, and resilient infrastructure – they largely cling to a 20th-century energy playbook until the seas literally rise around them.

Breaking this logjam will require leadership and honesty. It means environmentalists must admit that some of their traditional positions (like blanket opposition to nuclear or to any easing of permitting) are counterproductive in an era of climate crisis. It means progressives must reclaim the pro-growth, pro- science spirit that once animated leaders like Franklin D. Roosevelt, recognizing that building – transit, grids, reactors, housing – is not a favor to corporations but a boon to society and the planet. It means reframing climate action as a chance to deliver abundance – good jobs, cheaper energy, modern cities, clean air – rather than a narrative of sacrifice and scarcity. Jonathan Chait’s argument is fundamentally about optimism: the belief that we can solve big problems if we align our institutions to do so. That optimism has been in short supply, but it is exactly what must be rekindled to inspire public support for transformative climate policies.

At the same time, the right must undertake its own reckoning. As long as one of America’s two major parties remains in thrall to fossil fuel interests and hostile to climate science, the country’s overall response

will remain insufficient. Republican leaders might consider that embracing abundant clean energy – including nuclear – could be a winning strategy for American competitiveness and security. There is nothing inherently conservative about smog, oil spills, or heat waves; indeed, conserving the nation’s natural heritage and protecting communities from disruption ought to be bipartisan goals. A few glimmers of change exist: some Republican officials tout nuclear plants in their districts for providing jobs and carbon- free power; a caucus of younger GOP members has started talking about “resilience” and funding for technologies like direct air capture. But these remain overshadowed by the party’s predominant stance of rolling back any climate initiative and promoting drilling everywhere. Overcoming this will likely require a generational shift – as the costs of climate disasters mount, future conservative leaders may find that denying reality is untenable and that there is political capital in being problem-solvers instead of problem- deniers.

In sum, achieving a post-carbon abundance agenda – one that delivers broad prosperity in a sustainable way – will demand that both sides abandon their most self-defeating habits. For the left, that means letting go of the fear of growth and technology, and dismantling the bureaucratic roadblocks that choke progress. It means saying yes to nuclear energy, to high-speed rail, to dense housing – confident that we can manage the risks and maximize the benefits with today’s knowledge and tools. For the right, it means cutting the umbilical cord with Big Oil and ceasing to treat climate action as a zero-sum culture war. It means recognizing the immense economic opportunities in clean energy and the moral duty of stewardship for future generations. Policymakers could start by finding common cause in areas like advanced nuclear, where even tentative bipartisan support exists, and by reinforcing the notion that American innovation – not Saudi oil or Russian gas – should fuel the 21st century.

If the U.S. can align its policies with this vision, the impact would be profound. Imagine a United States where new nuclear reactors are being built alongside wind farms and solar arrays, providing plentiful clean electricity to power a fleet of electric vehicles and electrified industries. Imagine modernized grids and transit systems, skylines dotted with construction cranes building affordable green housing, and a revitalized belief that big projects can still be accomplished. This is the essence of abundance politics: the promise of material progress – “prosperity for the American people,” as Chait wrote, and “enduring power for the liberal coalition” as a result . Such prosperity need not be a partisan issue; it can be a shared national project. The alternative, if we remain mired in infighting and inertia, is a continued spiral of climate disasters, public cynicism, and the rise of demagogues peddling false promises that only they can fix a broken system. Avoiding that fate will require a conscious choice to fix the system ourselves – to update our thinking, our laws, and our energy infrastructure for the challenges ahead. Nuclear energy, once a flashpoint of controversy, can and should be a linchpin of this new paradigm: a symbol that we will embrace science, ambition, and building in pursuit of a brighter future. In the end, abundance is not about consuming more for the sake of it; it’s about creating more – more value, more solutions, more hope – so that we all can thrive within the planet’s limits. To unlock that future, the United States must shake off the shackles of both left pessimism and right obduracy, and get to work on the monumental task of rebuilding our energy system for the better. As the saying goes, the best way to predict the future is to build it – and there is no time to waste.