When Climate Change Theory Meets the Reality of on the Ground Implementation

A community rises up to contest the building of New Mexico's largest solar farm

Dec 17, 2024

NO COUNTRY FOR THE TIMID. Imagine an 1800 acre solar plant smack in the middle of this picture. Now, imagine that this picture was taken from your front deck. You’ve been worried about fires, or your well running dry, or someone/something building something big and ugly where there’s nothing now. You’re pissed and you’re not going to take it anymore! You’re going to fight this damn foreign-owned project. Loudly. Passionately. How ever often it takes. Welcome to the real world of sustainable energy projects.

I’ve spent the past fourteen years fighting the good fight to slow climate change everywhere from Los Angeles to DC to Sacramento to Paris to Berlin to Kolkata to Bangkok. I’ve tried my hand at explaining what climate change is and why we should care. I’ve argued that smart environmental policy drives markets in a good way. I’ve tried to make the business case for the huge green economy opportunity before us right now. I’ve spoken to more people and audiences than I can remember.

Here’s what I haven’t done: been involved in implementing climate change projects in rural America. Faster than you can say, “what the heck is happening here,” all my climate change theory and strategy counts for nothing. Zip. Zero Nada. Here in rural America, building a solar farm isn’t about reducing carbon and generating clean energy, but about reducing one’s living room view, damaging “virgin” desert, and increasing the likelihood of fire. Frankly, I felt pretty helpless and inept in talking with my New Mexico neighbors about a proposed solar farm down the highway.

The East Mountains

The East Mountains is a loose group of small towns between Albuquerque and Santa Fe in the Sandia Mountains of New Mexico. We have a house in one of these communities, Sandia Park, nestled in the mountains at 7200 feet . Our view is 180 degrees of forest-covered mountains and high desert ranch lands. The mountains and high plains are only dotted by occasional houses, barns and NM-style huge garages. There’s probably no more than a thousand residents as far as you can see. I’m afraid to write this, but here it is: this area of New Mexico is drop-dead gorgeous. We live here largely because of its natural beauty.

Like all of New Mexico, our neighborhood is one of contrasts. Our closest neighbor is a scientist who works for Sandia National Labs, two other neighbors further over are lawyers, the guy down the hill works for the phone company and another is a retired botanist. Go out our driveway and around a corner on the “main” (e.g. paved) mountain road and there’s a place that has its address number blacked out with Do Not Trespass signs plastered all over. Go in the other direction down La Madera and you’ll pass by a number of micro ranches. While there seemed to be an equal number of Trump/Harris signs pre-election, the Trump signs were usually larger: ) It’s a great neighborhood to live if you like variety.

Of Cattlemen and Commissioners

A handful of large ranchers own most of the land in the East Mountains : Campbell , Diamond Tail, Rancho de Chavez, X-Million and Vigil are the most prominent. While they’ve been in the same families for generations, these ranches now face the stark reality of not being able to make money from ranching and/or farming. Hence, most of these current generation ranchers are trying to find ways to get out, or at least monetize their holdings beyond raising cattle. But there’s a catch for these ranchers; their lands are zoned for farming and any other use needs a zoning change.

Zoning changes must be approved by city or county zoning commissions. Zoning commissions have to conduct their business in the light of day, including public hearings. While most of the time these zoning change requests attract little or no attention, anything remotely controversial spreads like wild fire by the rural social media equivalent of Facebook, an app called NextDoor. NextDoor has all the qualities of Facebook, except its organized by neighborhood. One doesn’t have friends on NextDoor, you have neighbors. Like any social media app this is both good and bad.

This Devil is from Argentina and he’s trying to build a solar farm in my backyard

PNM is New Mexico’s largest energy utility and like most utilities in the US, they are undertaking the slow process of decommissioning coal and gas-fired plants, then replacing them with wind and/or solar power plants. Like everywhere else, at the same time they’re decommissioning these “dirty” assets, they need to build more and more power generating capacity to just to meet increasing demand. Bottom line, PNM is on a rapid sustainable energy generation build out plan. Note rapid in this instance is relative.

Enter the PCR Investment Company’s proposed 220 megawatt solar project (with 110 megawatt battery storage) on 1800 acres of the Diamond Tail Ranch. If built, it would be New Mexico’s largest solar farm. PCR is an Argentinian family-owned company with lots of experience in building generating plants - both fossil and sustainable sourced — but they have never built a solar plant before.

Many of my East Mountain residents viewed this project as something from the devil. And while I’m exaggerating a bit here, I wasn’t prepared for the lack of knowledge about all things energy they exhibited. My neighbors didn’t just lack facts and data about the project, they held strange views on the whole subject. I wrote one milk-toast, general post supporting this project and I was immediately pummeled online. NextDoor even sent me a notice congratulating me on being an influencer because my post had so many views (though 90% of them were basically saying I was full of BS).

I was both baffled, “What are they thinking?”Really? “ and intimidated by their vitriolic tone. These people were angry, even outraged about this solar plant.

I needed to regroup.

Was I going to shut up and watch from a safe distance, thus avoiding the hazing and anger of my neighbors, or was I going to engage in a deeper, more locally-relevant manner?

What the engagement part of “Community Engagement” looks like up close

I could almost hear the wave of keyboards clicking in Sandia Park, Paa-ko, San Pedro Creek, Sandia Knolls, Edgewood and Cedar Crest communities of the East Mountains. Every opinion expressed on NextDoor immediately drew multiple responses. NextDoor was sending me updates every couple of minutes.

Eventually I wrote a more detailed explanation of why I supported this project. In as even-handed a way as I could muster, I began articulating the benefits of the project from a more practical, local perspective and tried to answer the numerous fears with facts. My and other “in support” posts seemed to give permission to other supporters to voice their opinion. As a result, posts ebbed and flowed as each side raised what it thought was a good point and their supporters rallied behind it.

Parallel to this online dialog was a “real world” in-person exchange taking place in Community Centers and Zoning Commission meeting rooms. PCR held two community “Information Sessions” for local residents, then a couple of weeks later the Sandoval County Zoning Commissioners held a public hearing and took a yes/no vote on changing the ranch’s zone to enable (or not) the building of a solar plant.

Local nonprofit, EMPAC, took up the Mantle to fight this project. This post encourages residents to attend a public hearing, which is a good thing. Unfortunately, it is riddled with misinformation (even the first sentence states the project is five square miles when in reality its closer to three.)

These meetings took on a similar flow. The first part included dozens of passionate residents speaking for three minutes each voicing their opinion against the project. Many had maps and other exhibits backing up their points. Some were downright angry. Their concerns included the following:

The batteries will explode and cause a catastrophic wild fire.
These explosions will release deadly gases into the neighborhood
The solar panels will heat the air above them, causing more extreme weather
The water needed to build the solar plant will drain the area’s already diminished aquifers, causing our wells to dry up.
If the water needed to build the panels doesn’t worry you, the water necessary to constantly clean the panels will surely drain your well.
If PCR trucks in the water, our roads will be clogged with dozens (hundreds?) of trucks every day, causing traffic to come to a standstill.
PCR is a foreign company, using panels made in India, and we’re sending our money overseas to others rather than spending it on US companies
The energy will be sold to out-of-state buyers, thus not benefiting local East Mountain residents.
PCR has no experience building solar plants, and because they only have a 30 year lease on the land, what happens if they go out of business? Who’s going to take the panels down and restore the land to it orginal condition.
And what about the Turquoise Trail state park natural habitats close to the plant. Having 1800 acres of panels and batteries will ruin this natural habitat.
New Mexico’s cultural assets from a nearby Pueblo will be ruined as well.
All the nearby residents will have their views ruined. The panels will reflect the sun, thus blinding residents living even miles and miles away. Who wants to look at thousands of man-made panels in sharp contrast to the area’s natural beauty.
PCR are a bunch of slick salesmen trying to sell us snake oil.

And on and on. As each one of these objections and fears were addressed, a new existential threat would be raised.

If not now, when?

And then, slowly at first, residents got up to speak in support of the project. One pro-speaker said to me after his time, “I was afraid I’d have to wear a bullet-proof vest up there.” As time passed, more and more project supporters provided their arguments. I was heartened to hear that everyone of these people not only understood climate change but that it was an existential threat. One speaker said something made the issue pretty clear:

“If not now, when? If not here, where? If not this source of energy, what other source? If not this development, what other development?”

I know most everyone on both sides wants our community to stay the same. This place is beautiful just the way it is. But staying the same just isn’t in the cards. These ranches will be developed.

At the end of the Zoning Commission hearing, the four Commissioners voted unanimously to approve the zoning change, thus allowing the project to move to the next step. And there will be many, many next steps and hurdles.

What I’ve learned from this close encounter of the local kind

First, I need to get my head out of the clouds and really focus on how these projects might affect a local community. Before, I dismissed any potential concerns as irrelevant because it seemed self-evident that sustainable energy projects were for the greater good of everyone. Well, it’s not self-evident to folks across the road from these projects. We need to acknowledge that in some ways solar or wind turbine farms may not be good for a particular community.

“We” need to learn from these collective dialogs and develop a new way talking that articulates the benefits, and addresses potential concerns in a comprehensive, balanced manner. I’m convinced that the Diamond Tail Solar Project’s community reaction won’t be last community to react to the next potential solar, wind, hydrogen, or other sustainable project.

We need to articulate the strengths of projects like this in an even-handed, transparent, fact-based manner while giving weight to local resident’s fears. Only then can we expect to increase the pace of sustainable energy adoption.