When proposals for the largest solar power plant ever made for US soil began to gather pace – a plan involving several million solar panels on a flat farmland in northern Indiana – something at Connie Ehrlich seemed to have failed.
Ehrlich, 63, is part of a longtime farming family in the Pulaski area, the site of a new solar project, but doesn’t live in the area and previously rarely dabbled in the usually sleepy local politics. He has carved out a comfortable life in a large house located on 10 acres (four acres), just outside the town of Lafayette, and is known locally for his contributions to medical research and his small fleet of luxury cars with private license plates. .
But to Ehrlich, the idea of transferring 13,000 hectares of valuable agricultural land for solar energy production seems so unthinkable that it demands an overwhelming response. In the months after the project was proposed, he had mobilized his fortune to fund a series of lawsuits, spearheaded an at times insulting pressure group and spent $3 million to buy a new plot of land, including a cemetery, on the outskirts of the project.
Ehrlich even acquired the office next door to the solar developer itself – and in its window a cartoon has been placed showing Joe Biden shoveling cash into the solar developer’s mouth, depicted as a pig in a pen.
The solar power plant, whose completion target for next year was delayed due to lawsuits, has generated strong feelings among some in Pulaski. “It’s very bad, very bad,” said Derrick Stalbaum, a pig farmer who also serves as president of the district’s zoning appeals council. “It’s surprising because we live in a quiet area with a great sense of community.”
Opponents of the solar project, a $1.5 billion venture aptly called Mammoth that is planned to cover an area nearly the size of Manhattan, say they oppose the gruesome attack on time-honored agricultural traditions and stand for newcomers who threaten to bend their pastoral way of life by technology made in China. “We need to protect American farmland,” Ehrlich wrote in a February post for the Pulaski County Against Solar group’s Facebook page. “Not only because it is sacrificed for inefficient and unreliable energy generation, but also from the interests of foreigners!”
The ongoing fight is a sobering reminder of how Biden’s ambitions for a mass transition to renewable energy, aimed at preventing the worst damage from the climate crisis, will be largely decided by the whims and veto points of thousands of local officials, regional councils and the Connie Ehrlich-style Opposition in all over the US.
Local battles over new solar projects threaten to proliferate as the industry, backed by the huge tax credits available for clean energy in the Inflation Reduction Act, seeks to thrive. Over the past year, solar projects in Ohio, Kentucky and Nevada have all been delayed or sunk by irritated locals. Regulations restricting solar, wind, and other renewable energy facilities have been passed in 31 states.
The prospect of a solar energy project occupying a plot of American land has created anxiety among farmers, and even among some environmentalists, that precious forests, wetlands, and fertile land can be sacrificed. If the US really wants to eliminate its carbon emissions by 2050, researchers at Princeton University estimate that solar production could grow more than 20 times, occupying an area that, combined, would be equivalent to the size of West Virginia. .
“We’re really seeing local opposition to solar arrays across the US,” said Samantha Levy, climate policy manager at the American Farmland Trust. “About half of solar development happens on the best and most productive farmland and that’s a cause for concern because we’re not making more land. We need to have solar power plants that are smart and don’t bore holes in this farming community.”
But for developers, the challenges posed by opponents like Ehrlich are a pain in the ass. “It’s just throwing away the spaghetti and seeing what sticks,” said Nick Cohen, chief executive of Doral Renewables, the Israeli-founded developer behind the Mammoth project in Indiana. “It only takes one person to file a lawsuit and it feels like a one-man crusade to set a city on fire.”
Cohen says his relationship with Ehrlich has been “civilized but direct” and Doral gives hope to be a friendly neighbor to his foe. The project will not cut down trees or disrupt fragile ecosystems, he said. “If people have real concerns, we can resolve them,” Cohen said. “But the behavior here is very irrational and confusing. Connie and [a] small group of followers are working against the best interests of the entire community.”
This episode also shows how an era of toxic politics and violent online vitriol can quickly undermine communities like Pulaski. Some people have left their churches because of quarrels with other congregants over solar power plants, while even family members are at odds with each other.
Stalbaum, head of the zoning appeals council, said while most people in the county were either supportive or apathetic about the Mammoth, a faction of people was so angry that they followed suit and filmed him and the rest of the council, or just kept quiet. in the car outside their house.
Anonymous phone calls, meanwhile, were made to the school where Stalbaum was previously a teacher to vaguely warn that he is not fit to be around children, he said. On Facebook, project proponents have been called “cockroaches” and “traitors” and, in one instance, appear to have been compared to Adolf Hitler. “I can only imagine how intimidating she is around children!!” one poster wrote about Stalbaum.
“It’s no longer about solar applications; it’s more about keeping the community apart,” said Stalbaum. “I’ve been attacked pretty hard for this, simply because this project meets our regional requirements.”
Much of the debate in the Pulaski area about solar has been entangled in national hatred, with several surprise attacks on Biden in public hearings for allegedly forcing his way through the Green New Deal, or for letting Mexican immigrants somehow take valuable farmland along with solar developers. In Pulaski, an area where Donald Trump is ahead of Biden four to one in the 2020 election, flags hanging outside homes proclaiming “Let’s Go Brandon” and, less subtly, “Fuck Biden” are common.
The Pulaski district appears to be a modest location for what will become one of the largest solar projects in the world. A rectangular piece of northern Indiana’s farm, Pulaski is home to about 12,000 people, a declining number, and plenty of corn. Peppermint is also grown here, and sold to the Wrigley Company for chewing gum flavoring.
A ripple of joy was felt in the nearby Fulton area in 1978 when a partial skeleton of a giant mastodon was discovered in a drainage ditch, beautifully preserved in the peat. It was this 10,000-year-old specimen that would give the Mammoth project the name, although Doral was more interested in the peculiarities of the infrastructure and geology – the area has flat, sandy soil ideal for solar power and is the meeting point for two sprawling power grids. , called MISO and PJM, which serve tens of millions of Americans and will allow Mammoths to dump converted sunlight into both for consumption.
In July 2019, Cohen was introduced to a farmer named Norm Welker. Welker Land, says Cohen, “is right on the mark, exactly where you want it.” Transmission lines ran through Welker’s fields in the Starke area and, most importantly, Welker himself was heartless about turning away from half a century of growing and harvesting corn on this land.
“You can’t dream of a better project for us,” said Welker, 62, who has a short, cropped mustache and was almost more interested in the idea of solar power than the developer himself. The money helped, of course – Welker’s 1,075 acres in Starke county would be rented out over the next three decades at $1,000 per acre a year. “This is five times what I make from corn,” he said. “This is crazy money.”
Construction began on Welker ground earlier this year and a grid-like pattern of piles pushed into the ground already exists. The long steel tube is placed horizontally on top of the pole, with brackets on it to mount the solar panels, which are awaiting permission to be imported from Malaysia. Wires dangle from some of these poles, and wires lie in a partially dug trench, ready to connect the output to an inverter which will then help push electrons into the grid.
The panel will automatically rotate from east to west, chasing the sun all day long, shaking off the snow in winter. But the whole system is simple enough to put together and shorter than the ear of corn Welker usually grows here. “It’s very passive, I mean, even tamer than the wind,” said Kevin Parzyck, senior project manager for Doral. Several years ago, officials in Pulaski rejected an application to build a wind turbine in the district. “With the wind, you’re actually turning a generator,” says Parzyck. Crickets make more noise than these solar panels.
For Welker, diesel is an evolution of agriculture, not a betrayal. He was already harvesting sunlight for his crops, he reasoned, and weighed in on fears of food shortages by taking land away from overproduction given that 40% of all US corn is already refined for another form of energy – ethanol, which is added to gasoline. Farmers are also routinely paid by the federal government to keep plots of land free of crops, to increase the price of corn.
The nodding rows of metal and glass would contrast with the surrounding cornfields, but it’s a moot point as to whether they’re more unnatural or dangerous to the surroundings. Weeds and wildflowers sprang up around the metal piles, bringing back insect life to a landscape normally bombarded by pesticides and synthetic fertilizers. The American corn belt, which stretches from Indiana to Nebraska, produces a fifth of the world’s corn, a stunning agricultural feat that has denuded large areas, removed topsoil and made soil, by one measure, 48 times more toxic than before. 25 years ago.
“I’m going to retire, I’m going to restore habitat – there will probably never be a cornfield here again,” Welker said. She owns more than 500 acres in the Pulaski area that she hopes to give to solar too, but there she faces tough odds from Ehrlich, whom she knew as a neighbor when she attended college in Indianapolis and later married Donald “Jerry” Ehrlich. , founder of the Wabash trucking company.
Now the relationship is a bit strained. “It blows my mind! This is my farm – why do I need my neighbor’s permission to do this?” Welker asked, suddenly angry. “I didn’t harm you. What’s with this woman? These people are stupid. ”
The Guardian made several requests to Ehrlich and his lawyers for comment. There is no response to this request.
The Mammoth Project – which will generate 1.3 gigawatts of renewable energy, enough to power the more than 200,000 households in Indiana that depend on coal each year – is divided into three distinct areas spanning dozens of landowners, which are shown on the map like a collection. scattered Jenga blocks. to the landscape. Two of these areas are in Pulaski, which has local regulations requiring special hearings to consider land use changes for solar power. Ehrlich and his group seized the opportunity to block this project.
The first hearing – by the district’s zoning appeals board, a five-member body that issues ordinary decisions on land use – in July 2020 is highly anticipated. Outside, people were broadcasting the proceedings live over the phone and their speakers were set so that the overflowing crowd could listen. Inside, Stalbaum was trying to maintain order.
A procession of locals stepped up to speak into the microphone, supporters of the sun stressing it would help sustain agriculture for future generations and raise important tax revenues for ailing public services. Opponents, meanwhile, were sharper, often invoking divine plans for this land and aiming for local officials who would deviate from this.
“I don’t want my backyard to be a guinea pig!” exclaimed Riley Cervenka Tiede, Ehrlich’s niece, recording the meeting. “As a farmer, I am very proud of the beautiful land that God has given us and believe that it should still be used for farming.” Tiede warned that property values would decline if the sun were to arrive – there is rather thin evidence of this – and raise the specter of a catastrophic fire.
In the comments of the Facebook stream, people pondered whether birds and crops would be burned by the glare from the panels, perhaps in response to a different and unusual type of solar farming in California that causes some birds to spontaneously catch fire after flying into its beams. of concentrated sunlight. “Firefighters, police, please stand up,” Tiede begged, as applause thundered for first responders. “Their lives are more important than some landowners earning money!”
When Origer tried to explain that the income from Mammoth could be used to help lower taxes for landowners – Mammoth would spend about $1.5 million a year into Pulaski’s coffers, about one-fifth of the county’s income from income taxes – a man in front of the camera shouted, “ You’re full of shit!” Mark Cervenka, Ehrlich’s brother who farms in Pulaski, said local residents had been ambushed by a “disturbing, scary and disgusting” solar plan. “I am a farmer and always will be. I believe the land should be used as God wills,” he added.
Things got so hot at one point a woman stormed up to the board members and started screaming unreadable at them while picking up her phone. Stalbaum asked two burly sheriff’s deputies to move him and muttered, “You’re not helping your cause here.”
The board voted unanimously to allow a special exemption for solar projects after the meeting, albeit on the condition, encouraged by Ehrlich and local resident ally Jennifer Knebel, that new trees would block the view of the solar panels, noise would be minimized and a large buffer area of open land would be kept within the project boundaries. Only 20% of the project area will be covered by actual solar panels, which opponents call the “sea of black glass”.
Ehrlich is not satisfied with this partial victory. According to Knebel, the group has spent “hundreds of hours” pondering the issue, usually coming to audiences with piles of notes to read. Doral had to gather a cadre of experts to counter claims that the silicon and aluminum panels would give off lethal radiation, or that they would kill the dune stork by blinding it or releasing poison into the ground.
“I feel like they’re getting pretty much everything they can get beyond banning the use of diesel outright,” Origer said. “But whatever everyone does, it’s not enough. I have to conclude that it is at least partly ideological. Ms Ehrlich doesn’t think diesel is good.”
In a flurry of online posts, op-eds and speeches, Ehrlich claimed solar developers were “preying on financially troubled countries”, questioning the efficacy of renewables and complaining that the energy produced would not be used by the region itself, which is striking in light of the regular Pulaski farmers’ protests. sells corn for consumption across the US.
“How do some landowners believe they have the right to do whatever they want with their land while destroying other people’s property and quality of life?” Ehrlich posted in July last year on his group’s Facebook page.
Public records show that Ehrlich has spent about $3 million to buy three plots of land in Pulaski since 2020, including a cemetery near the city of Francesville. Some of the land is within a mile of the planned Mammoth project. Meanwhile, Ehrlich and eight other complainants have filed lawsuits to try to cancel the land use agreement, dispute the tax reduction granted to Doral and stop the district’s next move to make it easier for developers to establish in the Pulaski area.
In September, Ehrlich was rewarded for his efforts – an Indiana appeals court ruled that Mammoth had not submitted a complete application for project zoning. The state’s highest court can now be subpoenaed for further judgment, although the developers don’t expect to be stopped by what they frame as an administrative rehash.
“It doesn’t make sense to me that he would buy land at such a high price in the neighborhood if he thought property prices would drop because of the project,” Cohen said. “He is not willing to compromise to discuss a joint solution. All the millions of dollars we spend on lawsuits, it could just go into the community. There’s nothing I want more than to have them as our friends.”
Detente seems unlikely, however, if you take a trip to the Doral project headquarters in Winamac, a small town that is the center of Pulaski. On the main road to Winamac is a large billboard that reads “No to industrial solar” and, once you get to Doral’s office, the opposition is hard for the developers to ignore. Ehrlich spent $100,000 on a former cigar shop, according to public records, which was a footstep from Doral’s own office. The windows are plastered with anti-solar posters, including a cartoon of Biden shoveling cash into the mouth of a solar developer depicted as a pig.
“Protest – that’s Connie’s job,” Welker said, noting the odd juxtaposition of the two offices. “Nick and I stopped for a while and tried to have peace talks, but he was just, ‘No. I’m here to save the Pulaski area from solar panels.’ That’s his job.”
Here’s how NREL describes it: A large fixed tilt solar PV plant producing 1 gigawatt-hour (GWh) per year requires, on average, 2.8 hectares of solar panels. This means that a solar power plant that provides all the electricity to 1,000 homes would require 32 hectares of land.
What is the biggest solar system in the world?
The ten largest solar power plants in the world On the same subject : Tiny 3D structures enhance solar cell efficiency.
- Kurnool Ultra Mega Solar Park, India – 1,000 MW.
- Longyangxia Dam Solar Park, China – 850MW.
- Enel Villanueva PV Plant, Mexico – 828MW.
- Kamuthi Solar Power Plant, India – 648MW.
- Solar Star Project, USA – 579MW.
- Topaz Solar Farm / Desert Sunlight Solar Farm, USA – 550MW.
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How much power will 1 acre of solar panels produce?
As a general rule, 1 hectare of solar panels generates approximately 351 MWh of electrical energy per year.
How many acres is a 5 MW solar farm? In the case of large energy users, it can be used to meet all their consumption needs or allow them to reduce their costs by selling electricity back to their local utility company. On the same subject : San diego solar and roofing. On the other hand, utility-scale solar power plants require about 30 to 40 hectares of land for 5 MW solar power generation.
How many solar panels can fit on an acre of land?
As a general rule, you can think of 1 acre as equal to about 43,000 square feet. A standard commercial solar panel would be about 20 square feet. Overall, you can probably fit a maximum of about 2000 solar panels in one square hectare.
How much money does 1 acre of solar panels make a month?
How much does a solar farm earn per month. Solar farms generate between $1200 to $1300 per month per acre, so even a small 2-acre solar farm should generate $2500 per month, depending on location.
How much energy can 1 acre of solar panels produce?
One acre of solar power produces far more energy than corn. In Iowa, one acre of solar panels produces 198,870 kilowatt hours each year. A typical EV drives about 3.6 miles per kilowatt hour. So, every year, an acre of solar panels generate enough energy for an EV to drive 710,250 miles.
How many solar panels does an acre hold?
Depending on the specific technology, utility-scale solar power generation may require between 5 and 10 hectares per megawatt (MW) of generating capacity.
How many acres are needed for a 1 MW solar farm?
A conservative estimate for the footprint of solar development is that it would take 10 hectares to generate one megawatt (MW) of electricity. This estimate takes into account site development around the solar array, including for site maintenance and access.
How much money can a 100 acre solar farm make?
So How Much Money Can Solar Farms Make for Land Owners? According to Landmark Dividends, the average solar farm profit per acre ranges between $21,250 and $42,500.
How many acres do you need to build a solar farm?
In general, a solar developer will need a minimum of 10 hectares of usable land – or 200 hectares for a utility-scale project. A good rule of thumb is that 1 kilowatt (kW) of solar panels requires an area of 100 square feet.
Is 5 acres enough for a solar farm?
Size of Community Solar Farms A general rule of thumb for sizing farmland is that each megawatt of DC requires approximately five hectares of buildable land.
How much money does 1 acre of solar panels make a month?
How much does a solar farm earn per month. Solar farms generate between $1200 to $1300 per month per acre, so even a small 2-acre solar farm should generate $2500 per month, depending on location.
How much can solar panels generate per month?
In short, an average 400W solar panel that gets 4.5 hours of peak sun per day can generate about 1.8 kWh of electricity per day and 54 kWh of electricity per month.
How much money does 1 acre of solar panels make?
According to Landmark Dividends, the average solar farm profit per acre ranges between $21,250 and $42,500.
How much is a solar farm worth?
Depending on the size of the installation, the cost of a solar farm can range from $800,000 to more than $1.3 million – significantly higher than the $20,474 average cost for a residential installation.
How much space would it take to power the US with solar panels?
21,250 square miles is a square about 145 miles on each side. The US has 3,797,000 square miles of land. Only about half a percent is needed to provide enough solar energy to power the country.
How many solar panels are needed to power New York? For example, to facilitate the average power requirements of New York City, you would need 12.8 km² of solar panels, enough to cover most of New Jersey. The average distance one can see to the horizon is 5 km, which means that one will be able to see solar panels as far as the eye can see.
How much land is needed to power the US with solar?
The abundance and potential of solar power across the United States is astounding: PV panels on just 22,000 square miles of the state’s total land area — the size of Lake Michigan — can supply enough electricity to power the entire United States.
How much land do you need to power the world with solar?
However, if we replicated this particular farm to produce enough electricity to power the world, then we would need: 92.7 billion solar panels. 54.1 million hectares, or 84,531 square miles.
Can the US run on wind and solar?
US. can achieve 100% clean energy with wind, water, solar, and nuclear zero, says the Stanford professor. Stanford professor Mark Jacobson sees a way for the US to meet its energy needs by 2050 with 100% wind, water and solar.
Can the US run on solar power alone?
“If you wanted to power the entire US with solar panels, it would require a fairly small angle in Nevada or Texas or Utah. You only need about 100 miles by 100 miles of solar panels to power the entire United States. The battery you need to store energy, to ensure you have 24/7 power, is 1 mile by 1 mile.
How much space would it take to power the world with solar panels?
How Many Solar Panels Are Needed To Power The World? It takes 51.4 billion 350W solar panels to power the world! In other words, this is the equivalent of a solar power plant covering 115,625 square miles.
Can solar power the entire world?
The amount of sunlight hitting the earth’s surface in an hour and a half is enough to handle the entire world’s energy consumption for an entire year. Solar technology converts sunlight into electrical energy either through photovoltaic (PV) panels or through mirrors that concentrate solar radiation.
