The New York Times
진보 성향
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The World Has Learned From the Last Ebola Outbreak, but Gaps Remain
The vaccine development process and coordination between health organizations have improved since a devastating 2014-2016 outbreak.
🇺🇸 미국 · "COORDINATION" · 총 14건
필터 보기현재 지수
50.0
0 = 부정 우세
50 = 중립
100 = 긍정 우세
최근 7일 기준 11,279건을 분석한 결과, 뉴스 심리지수는 50.0(균형)입니다. 긍정 1건(0.0%)·중립 11,277건(100.0%)·부정 1건(0.0%)이며, 중립 비중이 뚜렷하게 높습니다. 성향 지수는 종합 19.0(중도 균형)입니다.
The vaccine development process and coordination between health organizations have improved since a devastating 2014-2016 outbreak.
The attempted assassination of President Donald Trump in Butler, Pennsylvania, exposed vulnerabilities inside an agency long regarded as the world’s premier protective service, the Secret Service. Congressional investigations, independent reviews, and the Secret Service’s own admissions pointed to communication breakdowns, lapses in coordination, and security gaps that allowed a gunman to open fire at a […]
This sponsored article is brought to you by Black & Veatch. The biggest challenge facing utilities today isn’t what it seems. It’s not demand, even as load growth accelerates. It’s not extreme weather, even as “major events” become routine. It’s not cybersecurity, even as connections expand across the grid. The real challenge is this: Distribution systems were designed for a different reality. Long gone are the days of predictable demand, one-way power flow and isolated disruptions. At Black & Veatch, we see that leading utilities are no longer debating whether to modernize. They’re deciding how quickly they can do it, and how to do it at scale. Across grid modernization programs globally, three truths consistently emerge. They define what it takes to prepare the distribution system for what’s next: 1. Outage response is not a resilience strategy Resilience is being redefined in real time. A strategy centered on mobilizing crews and restoring service as quickly as possible is reactive, and increasingly insufficient. Resilience has to shift upstream into integrated system design. That starts with hardening. Stronger poles, undergrounding and structural upgrades all have a role, particularly in high-risk corridors. We’re also seeing meaningful gains from how the network is configured and how quickly it can respond without waiting on manual intervention. This is where distribution automation programs can change outcomes. Strategically placed reclosers, automated switches and fault indicators help contain disruptions before they spread. When combined with feeder reconfiguration and updated protection strategies, distribution automation investments allow utilities to set more aggressive recovery targets and achieve measurable reductions in outage duration and customer impact. 2. Future-readiness depends on DERs at scale Forecasting is less and less reliable. Only 19 percent of utilities report strong confidence in their ability to predict future load growth, according to the Black & Veatch 2025 Electric Report. Distributed Energy Resources (DERs) like solar, storage, EVs and behind-the-meter generation are exciting solutions; but they fundamentally change how the system operates. Power is no longer just delivered. It’s injected, stored and redirected in ways the system was never designed to manage. At scale, these challenges show up quickly — particularly on feeders where distributed generation is approaching or exceeding hosting capacity. Protection coordination becomes more difficult when fault current comes from multiple directions. Voltage becomes less predictable as generation fluctuates throughout the day. And planning models must now account for highly variable, location-specific behavior. Distribution modernization is fundamentally changing how the system is designed and operated so it can absorb disruption, manage bi-directional flows and respond in real time. Adapting to bi-directional power flow requires more than incremental updates. Leading utilities are responding by building flexibility into the system, moving beyond static assumptions toward dynamic hosting capacity and interconnection studies, planning that incorporates DER, EV adoption and localized load growth, and infrastructure aligned with the communications and control needed to manage it. 3. The edge must be intelligent, visible and secure As system stress and complexity increase, utilities need far greater visibility and control over the network. Historically, utilities relied on customer calls, Supervisory Control and Data Acquisition (SCADA) at the substation level and field crews to understand what was happening on the system. That model doesn’t hold up. You can’t effectively manage a system you can’t see. Plus, the most critical events are increasingly happening beyond the substation — on feeders, laterals, and at the edge where DER and customer behavior are interacting with the grid. Grid-edge technologies have become essential. Sensors, Advanced Metering Infrastructure (AMI) and automated switching provide the raw data and control needed to move from reactive to proactive operations. In more advanced deployments, utilities are creating centralized control environments that allow operators to see and manage the distribution system in near real time. That capability is enabled by: Advanced communications networks to form the backbone of real-time grid visibility Distribution Management System (DMS) and Outage Management System (OMS) to enable faster, more coordinated system response Analytics, AI and machine learning to improve situational awareness, anticipate system conditions, and support operational decision-making The same connectivity enabling this real-time visibility and control also introduces new vulnerabilities, blurring the line between physical and cyber risk, yet many utilities manage them separately. Only 22 percent have unified teams in place, even as threats continue to rise, including a 50 percent increase in substation attacks and growing exposure to malware and ransomware, according to the Black & Veatch 2025 Electric Report. Cybersecurity and resilient network design must be embedded into the architecture from the outset—not layered on after the fact. See what bolder vision looks like Distribution modernization is fundamentally changing how the system is designed and operated so it can absorb disruption, manage bi-directional flows and respond in real time. To learn about a successful program, check out Georgia Power’s recent grid modernization program. Black & Veatch partnered with the utility on large-scale infrastructure upgrades. The results? Outages are down 76 percent, restoration times have improved by more than 80 percent and communities across Georgia are powered by a grid built to meet the future head-on. When the state faced the most destructive storm in the company’s history, Hurricane Helene, Georgia Power deployed a rapid response team that utilized its “smart grid” and restored power to more than 1 million customers within days. A grid built to meet the future head-on—that’s the result of bolder vision.
Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) said 28 commercial vessels, including oil tankers and container ships, safely transited the Strait of Hormuz in the past 24 hours under permits and security coordination from the IRGC Navy. Iranian military officials said all ships must use routes designated by Iran and obtain authorization before passing through the...
The United Arab Emirates carried out dozens of coordinated airstrikes against Iran alongside the United States and Israel during the conflict with Tehran — including strikes on strategic energy and military infrastructure that reportedly continued even after the April ceasefire announcement — according to a report published Friday. The post Report: UAE Carried Out Dozens of Airstrikes on Iran with U.S.-Israeli Coordination appeared first on Breitbart.
Trump is now openly using normalization with Israel as leverage in Iran negotiations, putting the 2020 Abraham Accords back in the spotlight. But today, the region doesn’t look the same as it did six years ago. And Gulf leaders no longer view Washington, or Israel, in the same light. The UAE has doubled down on security coordination with Israel, including reported joint defense cooperation during the war itself. Saudi Arabia is moving further away from Israel and instead deepening security coordination with Turkey, Pakistan, and Egypt. …
Fox News Poll finds voters split on international AI coordination but united in prioritizing public protection over innovation by a 61-point margin.
BTSG is navigating ~$600M of 2026 revenue headwinds while leaning on national scale and home-based coordination to drive margin expansion.
President Trump on Monday outlined options for the fate of Iran's enriched uranium stockpile if both countries sign on to a peace agreement currently under negotiation with Tehran. "The Enriched Uranium (Nuclear Dust!) will either be immediately turned over to the United States to be brought home and destroyed or, preferably, in conjunction and coordination...
This sponsored article is brought to you by Wetour Robotics. A field technician on a wind turbine, harness clipped, both hands on a wrench, needs to send a command to the diagnostic device hanging at her belt. A logistics worker on a loading dock, gloves on, eyes on the pallet, needs to redirect a connected lift. A person using an assistive mobility device on a crowded street wants to nudge it forward without taking out a phone or speaking aloud. None of these moments call for a smarter robot. They call for a smarter way to be heard by the machines that already exist. The industry has been building from one side The past three years of Physical AI have been a story of remarkable progress on the robot side of the loop. Companies like Boston Dynamics, Figure, and Unitree have advanced actuators, locomotion, and dexterity to a level that would have seemed implausible a decade ago. Google DeepMind’s Gemini Robotics has redefined what vision-language-action models can do in unstructured settings. The trajectory of the hardware and the foundation models is real, and it is accelerating. But there is another side to this loop, and it has been treated as a solved problem for too long. The interface between humans and machines has defaulted, for 40 years, to three input modalities: screens, buttons, and voice. Each of those assumes the user can stop, look down, and translate intent into structured commands. That assumption breaks the moment the work moves into a real environment. On a turbine. On a dock. On a sidewalk. In any setting where hands are occupied, eyes are committed, or speaking is impractical, the conventional interface stack quietly fails. Spatial Intent Fusion is the simultaneous processing of three streams of human-centered information, namely spatial position, visual context, and gestural intent: Your body is the interface. The bottleneck on the human side of the loop is becoming as important as the one on the machine side. And solving it requires a different question. Not how do we make the robot more capable, but how do we let the human participate in the computing system as naturally as the robot already does. Wetour Robotics’ bet: put the human back into the computing loop Wetour Robotics is betting that the next architectural leap in Physical AI is not about making the robot more capable. It is about making the human a first-class node in the computing network, with the same kind of low-latency, high-fidelity participation that connected devices already enjoy. Wetour Robotics’ engineers frame the problem this way: a wristband that recognizes a gesture is not enough. A camera that recognizes a scene is not enough. The information a human carries about what they are about to do is distributed across multiple channels, including where their body is in space, what their eyes are attending to, and what their muscles are preparing to do, and any single channel observed in isolation is ambiguous. Reconstructing intent reliably means fusing those channels at the operating system level, with latency low enough that the loop feels closed rather than mediated. This approach has a name. Wetour Robotics calls it Spatial Intent Fusion: the simultaneous processing of three streams of human-centered information, namely spatial position, visual context, and gestural intent, fused into a single real-time command for any connected physical device. It is the technical implementation behind a simpler positioning statement the company uses externally: your body is the interface. Orchestra is a portable intelligent hub running the operating system that handles sensor fusion, intent inference, command translation, and safety arbitration. The reference compute platform is NVIDIA Jetson Orin Nano Super, which provides enough on-device inference capacity to keep the entire control loop at the edge, with no cloud dependency on the critical path. Wetour Robotics The architecture: three layers, four engines, one loop Orchestra is not a single device but a layered platform, designed from the start to be sensor-flexible and actuator-agnostic. The architecture decomposes into three perception layers and four coordination engines. Orchestra itself is the local compute and orchestration core: a portable intelligent hub running the operating system that handles sensor fusion, intent inference, command translation, and safety arbitration. The reference compute platform is NVIDIA Jetson Orin Nano Super, which provides enough on-device inference capacity to keep the entire control loop at the edge, with no cloud dependency on the critical path. Edge inference is non-negotiable for this application. Full-chain latency from biosignal acquisition to actuator command is held under 100 milliseconds, the envelope inside which closed-loop control feels natural rather than laggy. VisionLink handles visual and spatial perception. Cameras feed into vision models that identify objects, estimate distances, and track environmental context. VisionLink is designed not as a passive recognition layer but as a real-time command generator: its outputs feed directly into Orchestra OS to be fused with biosignal data. Conductor is the biosignal pipeline. It ingests raw surface electromyographic (sEMG) data from a wrist-worn device, classifies temporal patterns into discrete gestures or continuous control signals, and outputs actuator commands. The technically interesting property of sEMG for this use case is that the signal precedes visible motion. Motor unit action potentials appear at the skin surface roughly 50 to 80 milliseconds before a finger completes the corresponding gesture. Wetour Robotics calls this property pre-motion intent sensing, and it is what allows Orchestra to anticipate user intent rather than react to it. On top of the three perception layers, Orchestra OS runs four coordination engines. The Perception Engine ingests and normalizes raw sensor streams. The Intent Engine performs Spatial Intent Fusion across modalities, resolving what the user is trying to do given where they are, what they are looking at, and what their hand is signaling. The Orchestration Engine translates intent into device-specific command sequences for any connected actuator. The Safety Engine arbitrates conflicting commands, enforces operational envelopes, and gates execution against runtime safety conditions. Wetour Robotics The trade-offs we’re honest about No system that bridges the human body and the digital world is finished. Three engineering challenges remain open, and the company addresses each with a deliberate trade-off rather than a claim of having fully solved it. Baseline stability of sEMG under motion. In a stationary user, continuous gesture recognition from sEMG is reliable. Once the user is walking, climbing, or otherwise moving, motion artifacts and electrode drift degrade the signal in ways that are difficult to fully compensate for. Rather than overpromise on continuous control in dynamic settings, Orchestra defaults to a smaller set of robust discrete gestures in complex operating environments, and reserves continuous control modes for contexts where the signal-to-noise ratio supports them. Miniaturization of edge AI compute. Running the Orchestra control loop entirely at the edge requires real on-device inference, which has historically meant trading off between compute capacity, battery life, and form factor. Wetour Robotics’ approach has been a compact carrier board paired with a thermal design and a battery module sized for all-day wearability. The result is a hub that travels with the user rather than tethering them to a desk, and that performs the full perception-to-actuation loop without offloading to the cloud. Heterogeneity of third-party device protocols. The actuator side of the loop is a fragmented landscape. Different manufacturers expose different command interfaces, different communication stacks, and different safety conventions, and a Physical AI operating system has to integrate with all of them. Wetour Robotics uses an AI-agent layer to negotiate connection and protocol translation adaptively, so that Orchestra OS can ingest data from a wide range of devices, run them through neural network models that infer human intent, and emit the right command on the right protocol for the device on the other end. Why this matters, and why it helps the rest of the field The history of computing is a history of interface revolutions. Command lines gave way to graphical user interfaces, which gave way to touch, which gave way to voice. Each transition expanded who could participate in the system and what they could do with it. The next transition is not about a new screen or a new microphone. It is about treating the human body itself as a participant in the computing network, capable of contributing intent at the same speed and fidelity that any other connected node can. The history of computing is a history of interface revolutions. The next transition is not about a new screen or a new microphone — it is about treating the human body itself as a participant in the computing network. This path is not a competitor to the work being done on humanoid robots, foundation models for embodied AI, and dexterous manipulation. It is the missing complement to that work. The hardest open problem for humanoid systems is the data: every natural interaction between a human and the physical world is a potential training signal, and most of those interactions are currently invisible to any computing system. As more humans become first-class nodes in the loop, those interactions become observable, structured, and ultimately useful for training the next generation of embodied AI, including the humanoid robots being developed today. In other words: putting the human back into the computing loop is not just about better interfaces for individual users. It is about generating the kind of grounded, in-the-wild human-machine interaction data that the broader Physical AI ecosystem will need to keep advancing. The robot side and the human side of the loop are not two competing futures. They are two halves of the same one. That is what Wetour Robotics means when it says: Your body is the interface. Learn more at wetourrobotics.com.
This presentation highlights recent efforts at the Johns Hopkins Applied Physics Laboratory to advance agentic AI for collaborative robotic teams. It begins by framing the core challenges of enabling autonomy, coordination, and adaptability across heterogeneous systems, then introduces a scalable architecture designed to support agentic behaviors in multi-robot environments. The talk concludes with key challenges encountered and practical lessons learned from ongoing research and development. Key learnings Provides an introduction to LLM-based AI Agents Describes an approach to applying LLM-based AI Agents to robotic teams Provides demonstrations of the approach running in hardware with a heterogeneous team of robots Presents lessons learned and future work in this area Download this free whitepaper now!
This sponsored article is brought to you by Ampace. As AI workloads grow to gigascale levels, the global data center industry has hit a hidden physical wall. The real bottleneck is no longer just the thermal limit of the chip or the capacity of the cooling system — it is the dynamic resilience of the power chain. Modern AI computing clusters, driven by massive GPU clusters, generate high-frequency, abrupt, and synchronized spikey pulse loads. As rack densities soar beyond 100 kW, these fluctuations are amplified into a “power paradox”: while the digital logic of AI is moving faster than ever, the physical infrastructure supporting it remains tethered to legacy response capabilities. The power usage of these gigascale sites and their drastic, high frequency, abrupt load surges from the AI GPU clusters can trigger transient voltage events and frequency instability, risking the entire local grid. The grid itself is not robust enough to support these loads. This leads to the infrastructure gap: The utility is not robust enough and traditional backup sources, such as diesel generators and gas turbines, simply cannot react to millisecond-level power spikes in output. This will often force operators into a cycle of costly infrastructure over sizing just to buffer the volatility. AI infrastructure requires energy systems capable of instantaneous response while safeguarding continuity and reliability. The industry has explored various mitigations — from rack-level BBUs to 800V DC architectures — yet the mature, high volume, traditional UPS system remains the most viable and scalable foundation for gigawatt-level facilities. Consequently, the UPS-integrated battery system has emerged as the critical “physical buffer” to neutralize these pulses at the source. At Data Center World 2026 in Washington, D.C., Ampace led a pivotal technical dialogue with Eaton during the session “Powering Giga-scale AI.” Their exchange unveiled a fundamental paradigm shift: To bridge the AI power gap, energy storage must evolve from a passive insurance policy into an active, high-speed stabilizer. By aligning Ampace’s semi-solid-state battery innovation with Eaton’s proven system intelligence, we are moving beyond simple backup to solve the physical paradox of the AI era. To move beyond simple backup and solve the physical paradox of the AI era, Ampace is aligning its semi-solid-state battery innovation with Eaton’s proven system intelligence.Ampace The “Shock Absorber” physics: semi-solid chemistry for AI pulses Conventional power systems were designed for steady-state loads, not the rapid heartbeat of a massive AI GPU cluster. When thousands of GPUs synchronize their computing cycles, they generate high-frequency, abrupt pulse loads that can lead to voltage sags, frequency oscillations, and potential interruptions of critical AI training. Ampace’s PU Series semi-solid and low-electrolyte cells address this challenge by acting as high-speed “shock absorbers.” Leveraging ultra-low internal resistance (DCR) and high cycle capability, these batteries neutralize millisecond-level power spikes at the source, stabilizing the local power loop before disturbances propagate upstream to the grid or on-site generators. These high-rate cells enable 100 kW+ racks to maintain peak performance without transmitting instability across the power chain. This capability aligns closely with Eaton’s matured UPS architectures, such as double-conversion topologies and advanced power electronics upgrades, which have long prioritized rapid load responsiveness and high system stability. Together, these approaches embody a shared industry philosophy: AI infrastructure requires energy systems capable of instantaneous response while safeguarding continuity and reliability. Ampace’s semi-solid state chemistry minimizes liquid electrolyte, greatly reducing the risk of leakage and thermal runaway under continuous AI high-load conditions.Ampace Algorithmic intelligence: synchronizing energy and control Hardware alone cannot solve the AI power paradox; the system also requires intelligent coordination between energy storage and power management. Sophisticated battery management systems (BMS) like Ampace’s high-precision design track state-of-charge (SOC) with high-speed sampling, even during rapid, shallow cycling typical in AI workloads. Complementary algorithmic approaches in modern UPS platforms — such as ramp-rate control and average power management — effectively suppress sub-synchronous oscillations and optimize load smoothing. In large-scale AI training environments, where thousands of GPUs can trigger millisecond-level power pulses, these intelligent layers ensure that batteries buffer high-frequency fluctuations without compromising the mandatory emergency backup reserves. By transforming energy storage from passive “standby insurance” into active, schedulable assets, the system simultaneously safeguards continuous AI training and maintains the long-term health of the data center infrastructure. In practical terms, this means that even during peak compute bursts, the infrastructure remains stable, training cycles continue uninterrupted, and operators avoid costly oversizing or grid stress. Eaton’s dual-layer algorithms serve as a valuable benchmark in this space, demonstrating how advanced control logic can achieve similar objectives, reinforcing Ampace’s approach and philosophy within the broader data center power ecosystem. Economic scalability: optimizing AI infrastructure efficiently One of the largest costs in deploying AI infrastructure is “oversizing”: procuring transformers, generators, and UPS systems to handle brief peak spikes. This traditional approach inflates the Total Cost of Ownership (TCO) and leads to wasted capital on underutilized hardware. Ampace’s turn-key cabinet design developed by its independent R&D is engineered for seamless compatibility with mature, high volume UPS systems. By leveraging Eaton’s double-conversion UPS topologies alongside intelligent ramp-rate and average power management algorithms, AI data centers can scale dynamically without requiring costly infrastructure redesigns. This approach allows the UPS and batteries to act as active load-shapers, smoothing AI-driven pulses while strictly maintaining mandatory emergency backup capacity. By utilizing energy storage as an active, schedulable asset, operators can right-size their infrastructure, avoid unnecessary grid upgrades, and deploy gigascale AI clusters with unprecedented efficiency. Safety First: Protecting AI Infrastructure While Enabling Innovation In high-density AI facilities, safety is non-negotiable. Ampace’s semi-solid state chemistry minimizes liquid electrolyte, greatly reducing the risk of leakage and thermal runaway under continuous AI high-load conditions. Ampace’s turn-key cabinet design developed by its independent R&D is engineered for seamless compatibility with mature, high volume UPS systems. Ampace At the same time, Eaton’s UPS design emphasizes system-level energy scheduling that never sacrifices mandatory emergency backup reserves, ensuring thermal safety and uninterrupted operation. This “safety-first” approach ensures that infrastructure can sustain aggressive performance targets without compromising the physical integrity of the facility. Coupled with over a decade of proven high-cycle life operation and design under shallow pulse conditions, these systems can extend operational lifespan, reduce replacement requirements, and provide operators with confidence that safety and reliability remain uncompromised as compute density continues to grow. To remain the scalable backbone of AI data centers As AI computing scales over the next two to three years, the industry will face stricter grid requirements and even more demanding pulse load characteristics. This evolution demands a forward-looking design philosophy that harmonizes UPS, battery, and grid compatibility. Ampace views current low-electrolyte semi-solid technologies as the optimal transitional step toward a fully solid-state future — one that promises ultimate safety and performance. Ampace remains committed to this long-term technological roadmap. We view current low-electrolyte semi-solid technologies as the optimal transitional step toward a fully solid-state future — one that promises ultimate safety and performance. Whether through rack-level BBU, integrated UPS systems, or containerized storage, the universal core of the AI era remains constant: high-speed response, long shallow-cycle life, and refined energy management. By engaging in deep technical exchanges with Eaton and leading energy innovators, Ampace ensures that its solutions not only meet today’s AI pulse challenges but also harmonize with broader infrastructure strategies and shared industry best practices. Ultimately, as traditional diesel generators gradually give way to diversified alternatives, the integrated UPS-plus-energy-storage system will become the fundamental infrastructure standard. The dialogue has just begun. Ampace will continue to engage in strategic exchanges with global industrial automation leaders and digital energy pioneers, co-authoring the playbook for a safer, more efficient, and more resilient AI-ready world.
“Why are you here?” Fabrizio Pilo, an electrical engineer, asks me as we sit in an outdoor café near his home in Cagliari, an ancient city on the island of Sardinia. It’s a fair question. I’m a journalist from the United States. I’d just stepped off my flight 2 hours prior and come straight to this meeting, suitcase still stowed in my rental car. I’m here to see three intriguing new energy projects under development in Sardinia. I’d heard there’s strong public resistance to renewable energy, and I want to understand why that is. I tell Pilo, who is vice rector for innovation at the University of Cagliari, that I hope he’ll share some insights before I head out on a reporting trip across the island. (My answer seems to satisfy him, and he kindly gives me an hour of his time). This won’t be the first time that I’m asked to explain my presence on the island. I’d expected it, to some extent; I’m a foreign journalist poking around, after all. What I didn’t expect was the depth of Sardinians’ distrust, not just of journalists, but of any outsider, particularly ones with authority. Over the last few years, developers of wind and solar projects, most of whom aren’t from here, have been absorbing the bulk of this smoldering, communal wariness. Activists Maria Grazia Demontis [left] and Alberto Sala, photographed inside the archaeological monument Giants’ Tomb of Pascarédda, have worked to stop the construction of wind farms by organizing protests and taking legal actions through their organization Gallura Coordination. Luigi Avantaggiato In fact, the resistance is so widespread among Sardinians that over the course of two months in 2024, a grassroots petition to ban new wind and solar projects gathered over 210,000 certified signatures. That’s more than a quarter of Sardinia’s typical voter turnout and represents a cross-party consensus. People stood in long lines in public squares to sign. And it worked: Political leaders responded swiftly with an 18-month moratorium on renewable energy construction. “I’ve never seen so much engagement for anything” in Sardinia, says Elisa Sotgiu, a literary sociologist at the University of Oxford, who was born and raised on the island. “Sardinia has a bunch of problems like enormous unemployment. There’s lots of emigration because there are no jobs. It’s one of the poorest areas in Europe. The area is just decaying,” she says. “And yet the thing people are demonstrating against is renewable energy.” And the opposition continues: A network of mayors has mobilized for the cause. Thousands of people show up at organized protests. Activists vandalize grid equipment. Families are passing down these stories of resistance to their children as a point of pride. Local media outlets are egging it on, frequently publishing misinformation tinged with fearmongering. These aren’t just NIMBY complaints—not in the pejorative sense, at least. The resistance, and the distrust underlying it, is rooted in the island’s complex history, both recent and ancient. It’s based on a past that the Sardinian people carry with them—a past that has seeded a deep sense of suspicion and vulnerability. Resistance, I learn, is part of what it means to be Sardinian. Fabrizio Giulio Luca Pilo, vice rector of innovation at the University of Cagliari, has been working to help Sardinia transition to cleaner, more reliable energy. Luigi Avantaggiato “It is a very sad situation,” Pilo tells me. “There are a lot of economic reasons to do the [energy] transition.” It could attract new companies such as data centers, which would create new jobs, he argues. It could reduce Sardinia’s reliance on imported gas and fuel, making the island more independent. New economic activity on the island might help reverse its population decline, he adds. And while what’s happening on Sardinia is unique, it also represents a larger trend: A growing number of communities around the world are opposing wind- and solar-farm construction, to the consternation of stakeholders. By 2025, nearly one-fourth of the counties in the United States had enacted some impediment to new utility-scale wind and solar energy—up from as few as 15 percent two years earlier, according to a USA Today analysis. In Africa, community pushback successfully canceled major projects such as the 60-megawatt Kinangop Wind Park in Kenya. In India, local pastoralists are challenging the 13-gigawatt Ladakh solar and wind project. And the European Union’s top-down push for renewable energy has created opposition in many communities. Their reasons vary—land-use preferences, generational ethos, government resentment, property values, economic effects, aesthetics—but all of these struggles have this in common: The resisters are passionate and they are often successful in blocking development. This is a looming problem for the energy transition. Unlike large, centralized coal and nuclear power plants, renewable energy is geographically spread out, so it touches far more communities. Sardinia offers one of the clearest cases of what can go wrong when renewable-energy developers and authorities fail to consider the complexities of the local situation on the ground. Why is Sardinia resisting renewable energy? Roughly the size of New Hampshire, Sardinia juts out of the Mediterranean Sea about 200 kilometers west of Italy’s mainland. Technically it’s part of Italy, but Sardinians are quick to point out their island’s autonomous status—a subtle way of saying, “We do things our way.” Its mountains seem to echo the sentiment. With the highest peaks running in a chain along the east side of the island, Sardinia resolutely turns its back to the mainland. At first glance, the island looks like the kind of place that’s ripe for an energy transition. Its two coal plants are aging and are targeted to be shut down to meet climate commitments. It has no nuclear power, nor does it produce its own natural gas. Wind and sun, however, are abundant and could easily meet the energy needs of Sardinia’s sparse population of about 1.5 million. But while the resources may be ready for a transition, the people emphatically are not. When I first arrive in Sardinia and take in its beauty, I assume that the impetus behind the fight against wind and solar farms boils down to how they look. Waves of silicon, metal, and concrete would spoil views of Sardinia’s stunning beaches, rugged mountains, ancient pastures, and idyllic medieval villages, after all. Residents of the city of Orgosolo in 1969 famously stopped the construction of a military firing range on communal grazing land known as Pratobello. Its village walls are still covered in murals advocating social protest and antiauthoritarianism. Luigi Avantaggiato But the island’s aesthetic—and the tourism industry that depends on it—are only part of the equation. The far stronger cultural forces at play are rooted in Sardinia’s past. Over millennia, the island has endured successive invasions from outsiders seeking to exploit the land. These incursions, and Sardinians’ rebellious responses to them, have become an integral part of the island’s identity passed down through generations. The invasions started with the relatively peaceful settlement of the Phoenicians in the 9th and 8th centuries B.C.E. Then came the Romans, the Byzantines, and the Iberians, who conquered with violence, looting, and enslavement. But legend has it that despite the might of these ancient conquerors, pockets of Sardinia sometimes managed to defend themselves. “Not even the Roman empire could conquer the shepherds of the highland regions,” is the oft-repeated tale. Whether that’s true or just an idealization is beside the point; such stories serve as an enormous source of pride and identity. Sardinia exported about 30 percent of the electricity it generated in 2025, largely to Corsica and the Italian mainland via two existing submarine cables. The island is “fiercely proud of its identity…especially in the center of Sardinia, which was the most resistant part,” says Andrea Vargiu, a sociologist at the University of Sassari in Sardinia. “This long history of exploitation is still in our DNA, along with a proud sense of autonomy,” he says. Sardinia’s unification, in the mid-1800s, with what would become the Kingdom of Italy is seen by many as an act of colonization. It didn’t help that Italy then proceeded to exploit Sardinia’s forests and other resources for the benefit of the mainland—a practice that continued through the 20th century, says Vargiu. Sardinian bandits sometimes fought back with their own sense of justice, settling matters through raids, kidnappings, and violence. Their stories live on in Sardinian lore with an almost mythical quality, the brigands admired for their intractability. Pasquale Mereu, mayor of Orgosolo, helped organize the Pratobello 24 movement against renewable energy in Sardinia. Luigi Avantaggiato Italy’s use of the island for military purposes particularly irked locals. In a famous case in 1969, residents of the town of Orgosolo successfully thwarted the construction of a firing range on communal grazing land known as Pratobello. That name has since become synonymous with the defense of one’s territory, and a rallying cry. “Sardinia has always been a land of conquest,” says Pasquale Mereu, mayor of Orgosolo, who spoke with IEEE Spectrum through an interpreter. “We believe that even today we are still a colony of Italy, and I’m not ashamed to say it even though I represent an institution.” A longstanding mural on one of his village’s walls reads: “You are in the territory of Orgosolo; here the people rule supreme and the government obeys.” Sardinia’s History Shapes its Identity Driving around the island and talking to people, I can feel the weight of Sardinia’s history—and people’s propensity for holding onto it. Elaborate heritage festivals occur nearly every autumn weekend in the island’s interior. They’re well attended, multigenerational affairs that aim to keep old traditions alive. In the medieval town of Belvì, men roast chestnuts—marroni—over an open fire in a frying pan the size of a swimming pool and then serve them to the crowd by shoveling them into troughs. They’re delicious. In an adjacent amphitheater, the crowd sways along to costumed performers leading traditional dances. Then there are the Bronze Age stone structures, called nuraghi, that are pretty much everywhere. Built before the violent conquests, these conical towers have come to symbolize a romanticized vision of the heyday of Sardinia’s independence. More than 7,000 of them remain, ranging from unremarkable piles of rocks to complex towers, each one carefully documented on an interactive online map. I visit one of the more intact ones that’s fenced off and requires an admission fee. As I take some video with my phone, an employee asks me who I am and what I’m doing and informs me I’ll need to get permission from the government before posting anything online. This rock hollowed out by erosion and walled up with stones was likely used by shepherds as a shelter near the historic Sardinian village of Tempio Pausania. Luigi Avantaggiato But in interviews with residents, I’m continually reminded of the darker side of Sardinia’s past. People often bring up painful things that happened 50 or 500 years ago. A middle school science teacher named Giannina Serpi, and her husband, Roberto Moro, meet me at a café in the seaside town of Sant’Antioco. When I ask why people are so opposed to renewable energy, they (like many people I interviewed) point to the 1970s. Sheep return from pasture in Bonorva, Sardinia, near the Bonorva wind farm operated by EDF Renewables. Luigi Avantaggiato That decade brought a new kind of exploitation: not by empires or governments, but by technology companies. Petrochemical, aluminum, and other industrial companies from overseas built factories on the island, creating jobs and adjacent businesses. But after a few decades, economic and geopolitical factors led the companies to close the factories, sinking local economies and in some cases leaving behind toxic contamination. In the northern city of Porto Torres, several petrochemical plants, a thermoelectric power plant, and an industrial harbor employed about 8,000 workers in the early 1970s. But the oil crises of that decade took its toll on jobs, and when environmental contamination became evident in the 1990s, employment plunged further. By 2010, most of the petrochemical plants had closed. Studies show that residents of Porto Torres during that time had curiously high rates of death from cancer, although there is no consensus on the cause. Similarly, studies have found higher rates of lead in children in the Portovesme area in the southwest, about a 20-minute drive from where I sit with Serpi and Moro in Sant’Antioco. There, the U.S. aluminum producer Alcoa operated a smelter that employed about 500 people and supported an estimated 1,500 adjacent jobs. But the company shut down the smelter in 2012. Three years earlier, Russian aluminum manufacturer Rusal had idled its Eurallumina factory nearby. The impacts of these events still feel fresh, Serpi explains through a digital translator. She says she teaches this history to her students but doesn’t tell them how to feel about it. “I let them decide,” she says. Energy Colonialism in Sardinia Against this backdrop, renewable-energy developers in the early 2010s began sizing up Sardinia. They were drawn by the cheap land, low population, strong wind, and sun that shines an average of about 300 days a year. EF Solare Italia commissioned an 11-MW solar plant in 2010. Rome-based Enel Green Power began construction of a 90-MW wind farm in Portoscuso the following year. Other developers followed, and they mostly came from elsewhere—mainland Italy, Europe, and later, China. The way many Sardinians saw it, the new plants didn’t bring many long-lasting jobs. Most of the work ended after the design and installation phases, and profits went back to the companies’ headquarters outside of Sardinia, they argued. People called it “energy colonialism” and lauded landowners who refused to sell or lease their property to developers. Pink granite called Ghiandone Limbara was extracted from the Sinnada quarry in northern Sardinia from the late 1970s to 2011. Luigi Avantaggiato The uncle of Oxford’s Sotgiu is one of those landowners. She says that a couple of years ago a solar company asked him if he would allow the installation of an array on his family farm in Logudoro in Sardinia’s interior. “From that, he would have gotten something around €150,000 a year, which is more money than he’s seen in his life,” says Sotgiu. The money could have covered his three kids’ college education, she says. “But he refused.” He had many reasons. For one, switching from sheep grazing to the more passive business of leasing land would have put the fate of his income in the hands of an outsider. “If you deprive a region of any sort of economy that is self-reliant, then it’s really fragile,” says Sotgiu. Her uncle didn’t trust that the income would last, and worried he’d be left with a ruined farm, she says. Plus, his farm has been in the family for generations and one of his sons is interested in continuing the business. “So I understand his pride in saying, ‘No, this is my farm, I don’t care about the money,’” she says. Sardinia has one of the largest carbon footprints per capita in Europe. Despite that kind of grassroots resistance, development continued. In 2023, the Italian government authorized the construction of a 1-GW submarine power cable to connect Sardinia to Sicily and the Italian mainland. When completed, the bidirectional cable, called the Tyrrhenian Link, will increase electricity exchange between the regions, bolster grid reliability, and help grid operators efficiently use more renewable energy. Sardinian activists, however, view the cable as a way to justify even more construction of wind and solar plants, and to export the island’s energy for the benefit of non-Sardinians. The island already exports about 30 percent of its electricity, largely to Corsica and the Italian mainland via two existing submarine cables. The Florinas wind farm, commissioned in 2004, was one of the earliest wind farms built in Sardinia. Luigi Avantaggiato And then came the tipping point. In June 2024, in an effort to meet the European Union’s 2030 renewable energy targets, Italy committed to building more than 80 GW of new wind and solar energy capacity over December 2020 levels. The national government divvied up the burden among its regions and told Sardinia to build its portion, 6.2 GW. The move triggered an onslaught of requests from wind and solar developers wanting to build projects in Sardinia. The queue at one point topped 50 GW of grid-connection requests. That represented more than 700 solar and wind projects, many of which came from companies outside of Sardinia. The southern newspaper L’Unione Sarda ran wild with the numbers. Almost daily, for months, it published stories about the “wind assault.” The call-to-arms posts urged people to protest. “The Attack on the Landscape Does Not Stop; The Threat From Agrivoltaics Is Growing,” read a July 2024 headline. Unsubstantiated articles tried to link wind and solar developers to organized crime. “It was scaremongering,” says Sotgiu. “It was a little dishonest, as I saw it, because they kept exaggerating and scaring people into thinking that we were going to be invaded.” (Representatives of the newspaper declined to comment.) The numbers did scare people. Lost was the fact that a grid-connection request is just the start of a multiyear process that involves permitting and legal review and often ends in withdrawn or downsized projects. Submitting a request is inexpensive, and developers often cast a wide net by entering lots of these queues globally to increase the odds of being accepted. In the end, only a fraction come to fruition. In other words, building all, or even most, of the requested 50 GW was never going to happen. “I tried to explain this” to the public, says an industrial engineer at the University of Cagliari, in Sardinia, who asked to remain anonymous to avoid any detrimental impacts of speaking out. “I went to the regional television station. But it’s difficult with technical information. And the newspaper communication is so bad, and its impact is so strong in the community, that it’s very difficult to change people’s minds,” he says. Pratobello 2024 and Anti-Wind Protests And so the collective angst caused by powerful outsiders, industry, and the state united Sardinians into a singular cause. Faced with what felt like another attempted conquest, they did what their families and community had taught them to do: They resisted. Says Mereu: “This is what we are rebelling against: the idea that Sardinians are few and therefore must put up with everything.” In a nod to the 1969 resistance in Orgosolo, they dubbed the movement “Pratobello 2024.” Activist groups, called “committees,” organized protests, and created social media campaigns and videos. Thousands of people started showing up at planned demonstrations. A lawyer went on a hunger strike. Vandals unscrewed bolts on wind turbine blades and set fire to grid and construction equipment. Italy’s transmission system operator, Terna, had to switch to company cars without logos to avoid being targeted. Students studying the electricity system in a master’s program sponsored by Terna were verbally attacked at an airport, according to a professor at their school who spoke with me about the violence. Celebrities got involved. Italian actress and Bond Girl Caterina Murino met with Sardinia’s president to ask her to reject wind farms. Murino posted on Instagram: “Nobody touch Sardinia!!!!” On Italian national TV, the jazz legend Paolo Fresu performed on trumpet while popular TV host Geppi Cucciari read an impassioned lament about the exploitation of the island. Sardinian author Erre Push penned a graphic novel titled Fàula Birdi about a protagonist who resisted an imposition from outsiders. He wrote it upon the request of the activist group ReCommon, whose mission is to “challenge corporate and state power responsible for the plunder of territories.” Push hopes the book will inspire more people to follow the protagonist’s lead. “Renewables are another imposition like in the past—not to help Sardinians but to help external people like industry managers or founders of companies,” he told me through an interpreter. Concerned about the influx of solar and wind farms being built in Sardinia by outsiders, Roberto Pusceddu, under his pen name Erre Push, published a graphic novel that aimed to inspire young people to resist such impositions. Luigi Avantaggiato Mereu and a network of mayors drafted the petition that gathered so many signatures. The people had spoken. In response, Sardinian politicians passed a law that imposed an 18-month ban on construction of wind and solar projects within 7 km of a nuraghe or other archeological site. It wasn’t a total ban, but it might as well have been. “If you put a circle with a 7-km radius around each archeological site, you cover all of Sardinia,” says Emilio Ghiani, a power systems expert at the University of Cagliari. “In this way, it is impossible to find a place to install a new plant.” The move was like giving the Italian government—and the EU’s clean energy targets—the middle finger. And it sent renewable-energy developers scrambling. One company building an agriphotovoltaic plant raced to bring construction to 30 percent completion, which the new law said was the threshold for being allowed to proceed. The company asked not to be named in this story to avoid trouble. Furious, the government in Rome challenged the Sardinian regional law in Italy’s Constitutional Court, and in January this year it prevailed. In its decision, the court rejected the law, saying that renewable-energy projects should be evaluated case by case. Project development quickly resumed. So did the backlash. A headline in L’Unione Sarda declared: “Enough With Top-Down Decisions Without Consulting Communities.” Sardinia’s Renewable Energy Conflict Where the island goes from here is unclear. There’s a willingness among a portion of the population to move forward with an energy transition. For example, some of Sardinia’s largest cheese makers are powering their operations with renewable energy and installing systems to utilize waste heat for efficiency. But for the most part, the public isn’t budging in its resistance. Researchers are trying to dispel inaccurate information, but regional newspapers seem bent on perpetuating fear. Plus, there are technical issues to work out before a full-scale energy transition can be made. Sardinia’s transmission system was built around the centralized generation of two coal plants; it wasn’t made for the distributed generation of wind and solar plants. Renewables require a more dynamic grid, more energy storage, and a wider range of power sources to compensate for their intermittency. Engineers are working on it, but they’ve got a ways to go. The new Tyrrhenian Link undersea power cable will help with that. By connecting Sardinia, Sicily, and the mainland, the cable creates more flexibility in the system. When wind or solar generation slows in Sardinia, for example, electricity from the mainland can fill in the gap, and vice versa. “It will increase the reliability of the system, and after it’s installed, it will be possible to switch off the old generation plants that use coal,” says Ghiani. In January, Terna finished laying the western section of the cable between Sardinia and Sicily, and in April it completed the eastern section between Sicily and Campania on the mainland. Doing so set a world record for power cable depth, at 2,150 meters below sea level, according to Terna. Italy originally ordered Sardinia’s two coal plants to shut down by 2025 but later extended the deadline to 2038. The link is one of the most innovative high-voltage direct current (HVDC) projects in Europe. It can move up to a gigawatt of power and reverse that power flow nearly instantaneously. By using voltage source converter (VSC) technology, it can also help prevent power-flow problems by regulating frequency and smoothing out oscillations in the grid in real time. And it has black-start capability: In the event of a shutdown, it can help restore the grid without relying on an external electric network. These features are particularly helpful for an isolated network like Sardinia’s. Italy has created new incentives and regulations to build a market for grid-scale energy storage. Having plenty of storage is a key to scaling up renewables because it provides backup power when the wind isn’t blowing or the sun isn’t shining. To this end, Italy created MACSE, an auction that gives storage developers revenue certainty. Its name translates to mechanism for the procurement of electricity storage capacity. The first auction round, in September, successfully awarded 10 GWh. Energy experts in Sardinia are also working with policymakers to change the rules around grid-connection requests. But these kinds of nerdy details don’t grace most household conversations. Industrial Sites Host Energy Storage Something more accessible that the public can get behind is building renewables on Sardinia’s abandoned industrial sites. “To be honest, not everything is so beautiful here. We have a lot of industrial areas where you can place PV panels. We have a lot of rooftops,” electrical engineer Pilo says. “We have unused coal mines.” I visit one such project that’s proceeding with local support—or at least without much opposition. It’s a coal mine near Gonnesa that shut down in 2018 and is now being turned into a data center and a pumped-hydro energy storage system. The plan is to move water through the mine’s vertical geometry via an enclosed membrane—like a soft pipe—and use the flow to turn a turbine that generates electricity. The water then gets pumped back to the surface and stored in pear-shaped vessels above ground. The scheme will help power the data center, which will be built both above and below ground, including in the mine’s largest chambers nearly 500 meters below the Earth’s surface. Energy Vault will remove old mining equipment from the Carbosulcis coal mine near Gonnesa to make way for an underground data center [above]. It will be powered by a pumped-hydro energy storage system that flows through the mine’s vertical geometry and stores water in above-ground tanks [top].Luigi Avantaggiato Energy storage developer Energy Vault is building it, and despite being based in Lugano, Switzerland—that is, not Sardinia—the company seems to have avoided protest. It helps that the mine is owned by Carbosulcis, a Sardinian regional-government-owned company, which is calling the shots on the project. Plus, doing nothing with the mine costs money. The mine closed eight years ago because it wasn’t profitable, but Carbosulcis must continue maintaining it because of its high methane emissions, which require monitoring and ventilation to prevent explosions and leaks. Carbosulcis managers figured that if they’re going to continue putting money and personnel into the mine, they might as well do something useful with it, Luca Manzella, vice president for Europe, Middle East, and Africa at Energy Vault, says as he and I tour the mine. An innovative project in Sardinia’s interior—Energy Dome’s grid-scale carbon dioxide battery—seems to be avoiding protest as well. Built in a gated industrial complex near Ottana, this energy-storage facility looks like a giant bubble—the kind that fits over a stadium or tennis complex. It’s filled with carbon dioxide that is compressed to store 200 MWh of electricity for the grid. Although the bubble is visible from several of the surrounding hillside villages, and although the developer is headquartered on the mainland, there’s little sign of public pushback. Energy Dome began operating its 20-megawatt, long-duration energy-storage facility in July 2025 in Ottana, Sardinia. In partnership with Google, the company this year aims to build replicas of the system on multiple continents.Luigi Avantaggiato Another path forward is through “energy communities.” In this grassroots approach, consumers work together to build their own solar plant or other power generation. Dozens of these communities are already active on the island, according to the Sardinian Electricity Association, a group that provides guidance to consumers. But by far the greatest need is for energy developers and authorities to understand the people and the history of the land on which they want to build. “When Europe or the national government make a law, they have to also consider the background of Sardinian people and why they are so afraid,” says Simone Micheletti, CEO at Futura Group, a renewable-energy developer based in Serramanna, Sardinia. “You cannot apply the same law to Sweden and Sicily. Sometimes you need to understand [the situation] locally,” he says. Decision makers everywhere would be wise to listen. Otherwise, they may suffer the same fate as their counterparts in Sardinia: despised by locals, delayed by politics, and surprised at how badly it all went. Special thanks to Luigi Avantaggiato for interpreting and additional reporting. This story was updated on 13 May, 2026 to correct the percentage of electricity that Sardinia exports.
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