Forbes Business
중도 성향
기타
Northern Lights Forecast: The Aurora Borealis May Be Visible In 10 States Friday Night
There will be a low chance of seeing the aurora borealis in regions closer to the U.S. northern border.
🇺🇸 미국 · "REGIONS" · 총 14건
필터 보기현재 지수
50.0
0 = 부정 우세
50 = 중립
100 = 긍정 우세
최근 7일 기준 10,311건을 분석한 결과, 뉴스 심리지수는 50.0(균형)입니다. 긍정 1건(0.0%)·중립 10,309건(100.0%)·부정 1건(0.0%)이며, 중립 비중이 뚜렷하게 높습니다. 성향 지수는 종합 19.3(중도 균형)입니다.
There will be a low chance of seeing the aurora borealis in regions closer to the U.S. northern border.
Instead of wading through tourist crowds in popular Italian cities and towns, I travel to Calabria's gorgeous beaches, mountains, and small villages.
For the past several years, Europe’s industrial debate has been dominated by a single word: decline. Factories are closing. Energy prices remain structurally higher than in competing regions. Germany’s industrial machine is under pressure. Steel, chemicals, fertilizers, and other energy-intensive sectors continue to struggle with the aftershocks of the gas crisis triggered by Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. The conclusion often seems self-evident: Europe is deindustrializing. But reality is becoming far more complicated than the…
Helmed by billionaire Michael Dell’s Son, Base Power is manufacturing its own home batteries to provide back up electricity in regions where the grid fails to serve people reliably.
The Permian Basin is one of the largest oil and gas regions in the world, and that productivity has become its own problem. Natural gas is arriving at the Waha Hub in West Texas faster than existing infrastructure can move it, creating periodic pricing collapses and exposing the simple truth that supply without predictable demand […]
The Middle East supply crunch has led to soaring freight rates to ship liquefied petroleum gas (LPG) to Asia from other regions, prompting some buyers to cancel U.S. cargoes due to the high shipping costs. Buyers have so far canceled at least two cargoes of LPG, the main cooking fuel in India and a key petrochemicals feedstock in China, which were previously slated to depart from the U.S. Gulf Coast in June, sources with knowledge of the matter told Bloomberg on Thursday. Buyers are also in discussions to cancel additional cargoes as the high freight…
This article is adapted by the author with permission from Tech Policy Press. Read the original article. South Africa is not just another developing country struggling to govern artificial intelligence; it is the exception with leverage, and the window to act on it is closing. It holds approximately 88 percent of global platinum-group metal reserves, critical inputs to parts of the semiconductor and data-center supply chains that make AI infrastructure possible. It hosts the largest data-center market on the continent. Its existing hyperscaler relationships give it procurement leverage that most African states will never have. And a major geopolitical contest over AI infrastructure is being fought on its soil right now, between Chinese and American technology companies competing for control of the systems that will underpin an entire continent’s public sector. In physics, leverage requires three things: a fulcrum, a lever arm, and the ability to apply force. The Bushveld Complex, the world’s largest platinum-group metal deposit, is the fulcrum: a mineral endowment that gives South Africa a position in the semiconductor supply chain that no other African state holds. The since-withdrawn draft policy is the lever arm. The unresolved “OPTION” provisions in the policy are where force would be applied. Without a policy that specifies what South Africa wants in return for market access, the lever arm sits unused, and the weight of two of the world’s largest technology ecosystems settles exactly where those ecosystems want it to settle. This makes South Africa a global test case. Not because its proposed means of governance is exemplary, but because it is the one developing country with enough structural leverage to negotiate genuinely different terms, and the one that is choosing, through inaction, not to. The recent announcement of a new panel to update the draft policy is an important opportunity. But the deeper failure is not that an AI policy contained bad references. It is that no verification process caught them before the document entered the public domain. That is a systems problem, not merely a political one. It points to a missing layer in how governments are adopting AI. The contest already underway Last year, Huawei pitched an emerging-product bundle to tech executives across the continent. Huawei was now bundling access to DeepSeek’s large language model with its own cloud and storage infrastructure. The price differential was stark—in some cases by more than 90 percent. At the same time, Microsoft announced plans to spend ZAR 5.4 billion ($300 million) by the end of 2027 on cloud and AI infrastructure in South Africa, building on a prior ZAR 20.4 billion investment. Google, Amazon Web Services, and Oracle already have cloud regions in the country. According to one analysis, the country’s data-center market was valued at US $2.16 billion in 2024, the largest in Africa. These are not commercially neutral investments. Huawei’s infrastructure reach has been explicitly linked to Chinese strategic objectives, including a documented track record of providing governments with surveillance infrastructure through its Safe Cities network. U.S. hyperscaler investment comes with its own dependency structure: closed models, pricing set unilaterally, and terms of access that no African government has meaningfully shaped. South Africa is being asked to choose between these dependency models without a policy that specifies what it wants in return. The leverage it has There is a particular irony in South Africa’s position. The country whose mines supply platinum-group metals essential to semiconductor manufacturing, and through them to AI compute, has drafted a policy that treats it as a consumer of AI systems rather than a stakeholder in their governance. South Africa digs up the minerals that make AI possible. It has no say over the AI built from them. The AI triad framework covers algorithms, compute, and data. South Africa has no frontier model development capacity. South Africa holds significant data assets in financial services, health care, and agriculture, with no clear framework for their sovereign management. South Africa possesses PGM (Platinum Group Metals) leverage of global significance on the compute axis, currently being transferred without meaningful condition. It also has exceptionally high solar irradiance and significant renewable-energy potential. A country that can offer both critical mineral inputs and the energy to power the infrastructure those minerals help build occupies a negotiating position of unusual strength. The Draft Policy proposes no minimum terms for hyperscaler investment, no data sovereignty requirements, no technology transfer conditions and no compute visibility mechanism. Multiple provisions are explicitly left unresolved, marked “OPTION,” including the most consequential choices about how governance will function. Infrastructure decisions made now determine what is renegotiable later, and the answer is: very little. Three futures, one default The three infrastructure futures on offer each create a structurally different form of dependency, and only one creates sovereign capability. The Huawei-hosted DeepSeek integration offers low cost and open-source weights, but with data stored on infrastructure potentially accessible under Chinese legal frameworks, creating surveillance dependency in a pattern already documented across Africa. The second is U.S. closed-model dependency: higher capability, more reliable data protection, but complete API dependency on developers abroad. The third is locally hosted open-weight infrastructure: models governed under South African data-sovereignty rules, on infrastructure subject to minimum terms, developed with South African data. As Nathan Lambert at Interconnects has observed, open-weight models are likely the only realistic way to get sovereign AI off the ground as a real effort, enabling local communities and economies to integrate meaningfully with the technology. But this requires procurement conditions, not goodwill. What binding governance looks like The GovAI “Governing Through the Cloud” framework identifies four roles compute providers should accept as conditions of operating at scale: securers (protecting model weights and training data), record keepers (maintaining infrastructure usage logs), verifiers (confirming customer compliance with safety standards) and enforcers (restricting access when violations occur). These are operational requirements, not theoretical categories—specific, enforceable, and well within the bargaining power of a market of South Africa’s size and mineral position. A detailed policy analysis submitted to the Department of Communications and Digital Technologies (DCDT) identifies the specific provisions the final policy must contain: mandatory minimum terms for foreign compute infrastructure investments above ZAR 500 million (~$30 million); a compute reporting threshold; a National AI Safety Institute mandate covering defensive monitoring of AI capability accumulation; and National AI Champion Sector designations to create data assets for domestic model development. Each provision converts a structural advantage into a governance instrument before that advantage is foreclosed by market reality. Just as modern software security increasingly depends on knowing what components are inside a system—model provider, training data, compute environment, evaluation methods, update cadence, human review points, and failure-reporting procedures—public-sector AI governance requires a clear account of the stack before deployment, not after a problem surfaces. A public institution that cannot verify the sources in its own AI policy is unlikely to be ready to verify the AI systems it procures, deploys, or regulates. Why this is the continental test case South Africa’s choices will establish a regional precedent for what is commercially negotiable in AI infrastructure. If South Africa negotiates data-sovereignty guarantees and technology-transfer conditions as requirements for hyperscaler investment, it creates a replicable model. If Microsoft’s $300 million investment and Huawei’s infrastructure expansion proceed on standard commercial terms, as they are currently, it normalizes extractive AI infrastructure across the continent. The lesson is not specific to Africa. Governments everywhere are producing AI strategies while lacking AI assurance infrastructure. South Africa is an early warning, not an isolated case. The public comment period closed when the policy was withdrawn. But a parallel process remains live: the National Treasury’s Draft General Public Procurement Regulations—the legal instrument that will govern every government AI contract—closes for comment on June 15. Those regulations contain no AI-specific provisions. South Africa has more AI leverage than any country on the continent. Some argue, with force, that governance requirements risk deterring the infrastructure investment South Africa urgently needs: compute capacity, reliable energy, venture capital, and talent retention. That concern deserves a direct answer. Minimum procurement terms, compute reporting thresholds, and technology transfer conditions are not barriers to investment. They are the conditions under which investment serves the host country rather than extracting from it. Infrastructure built without minimum terms produces dependency. Infrastructure built with them produces leverage. To serve the public interest, its AI policy must use it. When late last month News24 reported AI-hallucinated references in the draft AI policy, Minister of Communications and Digital Technologies Solly Malatsi withdrew the draft policy. That was a mistake that could cost South Africa and the rest of the continent the initiative on this urgent issue. His more recent constitution of an independent panel is a belated step in the right direction, if it can turn South Africa’s leverage into policy. The panel—chaired by Professor Benjamin Rosman of the Wits Machine Intelligence and Neural Discovery Institute, and including Professors Vukosi Marivate and Alison Gillwald of Research ICT Africa and Dr. Jabu Mtsweni of the Council for Scientific and Industrial Research—has the technical and governance credibility to produce a stronger document. What it has not yet produced is a timeline. No revised draft has been scheduled. South Africa remains without a formal AI governance framework in the interim.
Why are there more antennas on Svalbard than anywhere else on Earth? Svalbard of all places, where cats and childbirth are banned and there are more polar bears than people? This cluster of islands in the Arctic, one thousand kilometers from Norway, is key to everything from your weather forecast to your car’s navigation. At 78 degrees north, Svalbard is the highest-latitude satellite ground station on Earth and is a crucial point in humanity’s growing dependence on space. In fact, the polar regions — the Arctic and Antarctic — are both crucial to space access.The polar regions are the only The post The Road to Space Runs through the Poles appeared first on War on the Rocks.
The price of coking coal in China jumped by 8% after a deadly mine accident in Shanxi province that prompted safety checks that will affect production over the near term. The most actively traded coking coal contract on the Dalian Commodity Exchange hit the equivalent of $186.76 per ton following the accident. Reuters reports that eighty-two people were killed after a gas explosion in a mine in one of China’s largest coal-producing regions, which makes it the most serious mine accident in the country since 2009 at least. The government immediately…
The IEEE Communications Society (ComSoc)’s Research Collaboration Pitch Session initiative is proving to be a catalyst for meaningful engagement between academic researchers and industry innovators. Launched last year, the program connects promising researchers with industry leaders who can offer them funding, mentorship, and connections to bring interesting ideas closer to real-world deployment. Rather than relying on chance encounters at conferences, the pitch sessions create a focused environment. Five academic presenters share their work with five industry representatives, known as “innovation scouts”: senior leaders primarily chosen from ComSoc’s Corporate Program partner companies such as Ericsson, Intel, Keysight, and Nokia. The curated format ensures that each idea receives dedicated attention from professionals who are seeking new concepts aligned with their organization’s priorities. The initiative was launched in November at the IEEE Middle East Conference on Communications and Networking (MECOM) in Cairo and appeared in December at the IEEE Global Communications Conference (GLOBECOM) in Taipei, Taiwan. AI-driven communication network One of the most compelling outcomes came from the inaugural session in Cairo. Angela Waithaka, a student member and biomedical engineering student at Kenyatta University, in Nairobi, Kenya, presented her “AI-Driven Predictive Communication Networks for Enhanced Performance in Resource-Constrained Environments” paper. You can view her presentation along with others on IEEE.tv. Waithaka’s research tackles a critical challenge: Next-generation communication systems increasingly rely on artificial intelligence and machine learning, yet most existing architectures consume abundant computational and energy resources, which are not always present in developing regions. Waithaka proposed lightweight, adaptive AI/machine learning models capable of delivering predictive, reliable communication performance even under tight resource constraints. Her vision resonated with Ruiqi “Richie” Liu, a master researcher at ZTE in China. ZTE is a global leader in integrated information and communication technology solutions. Liu says he recognized the relevance Waithaka’s proposal had to his company’s work with the International Telecommunication Union. He invited her to establish an ITU account so she could participate in the organization’s meetings discussing global telecommunications standardization projects—which would elevate her work to an international stage. Simplifying data center protocols The momentum continued at GLOBECOM. Among the presenters was Nirmala Shenoy, a professor at the Rochester Institute of Technology, in New York. Shenoy, an IEEE member, spoke on the topic of simplifying data center network protocols. She highlighted the growing complexity of the critical networks, which underpin cloud services, enterprise IT, and emerging AI workloads. Shenoy’s focus on reducing protocol complexity while maintaining scalability, resilience, and low latency caught the attention of an innovation scout from Nokia, who heads its eXtended Reality Lab in Madrid. He found the key person at Nokia for Shenoy to connect with to discuss her research, and it led her to record a video for the company detailing her approach and its potential applications. A model for accelerating innovation The early success stories demonstrate the power of intentional, structured engagement. By bringing researchers and industry leaders together in a format designed for discovery, ComSoc is helping accelerate innovation and expand opportunities for collaboration. The pitch sessions are not merely conference events; they are becoming a bridge between academic creativity and industry implementation. This year sessions will be held during the IEEE International Conference on Communications in Glasgow from 24 to 28 May, and more are scheduled during the IEEE International Mediterranean Conference on Communications and Networking in Sardinia from 6 to 9 July, and at GLOBECOM in Macau from 7 to 11 December. As the program continues to grow, it could become a signature ComSoc initiative, one that strengthens the research ecosystem, supports emerging talent, and ensures that promising ideas find pathways to real-world impact.
Given how integral the Internet has become to everyday tasks such as shopping, paying bills, and holding virtual meetings, it’s interesting that nearly 30 percent of the global population still has no access to it. More than 2 billion people are still offline, according to a report released in November by the International Telecommunication Union. More and more people are being connected, though, thanks to IEEE Future Networks’ Connecting the Unconnected (CTU) and similar programs. Since 2021, the technical community has been working to accelerate the development, standardization, and deployment of 5G, 6G, and future generations. Every year, CTU holds a worldwide competition to seek out innovators who are in the early stages of developing technologies or applications to provide greater access. It also holds an annual summit that brings together experts, community leaders, and other interested parties to discuss strategies to expand access and foster digital inclusion. CTU expanded in several ways last year. It launched regional summits to focus on local connectivity issues, organized community-focused events, and established an expanded mentorship program to further support contest winners and the next generation of technological innovators impacting humanity. The program also partners with the IEEE Standards Association (IEEE SA) to develop guidelines for some of the submitted innovations. “IEEE Future Networks has created a community to bring all these initiatives working on digital connectivity together in a single platform and leverage the IEEE brand to help raise the visibility of their work,” says IEEE Life Fellow Sudhir Dixit, a CTU cochair and a Basic Internet Foundation cofounder, which also works to expand Internet access. A contest for new connectivity methods The CTU challenge, launched in 2021, typically receives 200 to 300 submissions each year, Dixit says. Last year 245 projects from 52 countries were submitted. Participants include academics, nonprofit organizations, startups, and students. Projects can be entered into one of three categories. The Technology Applications category is for new connectivity methods or innovations that broaden broadband access. Those who improve the affordability of Internet services can enter the Business Model category. The Community Enablement category is for strategies that promote public broadband adoption. After selecting a category, entrants choose between two tracks based on their project’s maturity. The proof-of-concept route is for early-stage but functional technology that has already produced results. The conceptual path is for projects in the theoretical phase that have not undergone full testing. “IEEE Future Networks has created a community to bring all these initiatives working on digital connectivity together in a single platform and leverage the IEEE brand to help raise the visibility of their work.” —Sudhir Dixit, Connecting the Unconnected cochair Last year’s challenge submission period was from March to June, with judging phases from June through November. The 20 winners presented their solutions in December at a virtual Winners Summit. Fourteen projects received prize money, ranging from US $500 to $2,500. Six finalists earned an honorable mention at the summit. The awards amounts have varied over the years, based on the sponsorship. Among the winners were a solar-powered community broadband network in Tanzania, a low-cost method for accessing the Internet that uses FM radio and a short message service (SMS), and a strategy for utilizing India’s rural broadband infrastructure to deliver medical services to people living in isolated, tribal, and other underserved regions. “Our job is to help further develop the technology, look for gaps, and see if it is good enough to be applied to rural villages, like those in Africa and India,” says IEEE Fellow Ashutosh Dutta, who is a CTU cochair and a professor at Johns Hopkins University, in Baltimore. “The idea behind the contest is to make sure the technology actually gets implemented at the grassroots level and is being used by the local community.” This year’s challenge submission period runs until 19 June, with judging phases from July through October. The finalists of the 2025 IEEE Connect the Unconnected challenge describe their projects.IEEE Future Networks Local connectivity discussions The CTU program hosted three regional summits last year. The North American event was held in September in Washington, D.C. In November, the Global/Asia-Pacific meeting took place in Bangalore, India; it was co-located with the IEEE Future Networks World Forum. The Europe, Middle East, and Africa summit also was held in November, in Abuja, Nigeria. Topics discussed at the summits included infrastructure solutions for universal connectivity; sustainable business models; scaling homegrown technologies; and policy, regulation, and financing issues. As of press time, the dates for this year’s regional summits had not been announced. Community-focused events To help bridge the gap between ideas and their deployment, the Connect a Community event was established to demonstrate how some new technologies might benefit people. The inaugural event was held in November in Bengaluru, India. During the daylong program, 10 of the challenge winners demonstrated their connectivity solutions to villagers from seven rural communities. Dutta credits IEEE Life Fellow Rakesh Kumar with devising the event. Kumar chairs IEEE Future Directions, which was where Future Networks got its start in 2017 as the 5G Initiative. “Kumar wants to ensure the winning technologies are going to be useful for the community,” Dutta says. Providing entrepreneurs with business skills Dixit says the Future Networks team believed that simply conducting a competition and distributing prizes wasn’t enough. “We wanted to follow up with the winners, monitor their progress, and help them turn their ideas into a business,” he says. To accomplish that, IEEE launched the Empowerment Through Mentorship program, in which budding entrepreneurs are paired with industry leaders and experienced mentors who provide them with 1,000 days of guidance, coaching them on scaling up their business. “We launched the mentorship program to further the cause,” Dixit says. “These people may be good at developing technology, but they don’t know the marketing challenges, how to raise money, and other factors.” The Lemelson Foundation, an organization in Portland, Ore., that partners with IEEE, collaborated on the mentorship program. The foundation’s philanthropic strategy is to cultivate a robust ecosystem for entrepreneurs in East Africa, India, and the United States. It does so by providing the entrepreneurs with tools including financing options and access to communities that share their passion. The foundation chose to partner with IEEE “because of its powerful international network and focus on electrical engineering, which is a critical element of communications and energy infrastructure globally,” says Kory Murphy, Lemelson’s program officer for U.S. invention and entrepreneurship. “Other factors include IEEE’s focus on nontraditional or disadvantaged areas in India,” Murphy says, “and its recognition that mentorship is critical for the successful deployment of new technologies.” IEEE began an early pilot project in 2023 with support of a grant from the Lemelson Foundation, to determine if a sustained entrepreneurship mentorship program was valuable and necessary, he says. It then conducted a survey through 2024 to collect information to better understand the needs of stakeholders, mentors, and entrepreneurs in hard-to-reach areas in India. While the early pilot program was restricted to that country, its intent was to learn from the experience and share the findings globally, he says. “Our job is to help further develop the technology, look for gaps, and see if it is good enough to be applied to rural villages, like those in Africa and India.” —Ashutosh Dutta, Connecting the Unconnected cochair “The foundation’s involvement was aimed at testing certain activities, partnership strategies, and understanding the budgetary requirements for a prepilot program,” he says. “The primary goal of the foundation is to enable conditions for innovation to occur within regional systems, especially addressing the opportunity for sustained, systematic, and relational mentorship in technology innovation.” The Empowerment Through Mentorship program is structured into three tiers. One focuses on individuals and their needs, the program/technical level focuses on the invention, and the venture level guides participants from the initial concept through product testing and validation. Within each track, participants engage in activities such as networking, securing financial support, and pitching their innovations, Murphy says. “The 1,000-day approach reflects the belief that it requires a long period of time to coach and support those who traditionally are excluded,” he says. CTU mentors can be IEEE members or nonmembers who are successful entrepreneurs and own small or large companies, Dixit says. They also can work in academia. “They need to be passionate about training and mentoring other people,” Dixit says. “We have created a curriculum that covers topics such as ways to get financing from investors and how to turn ideas into a profitable business. It’s not the technology that will make the product successful; it’s everything else that goes into it.” Rural broadband architecture standards To determine whether any of the challenge’s submitted projects have the potential to become a standard, the CTU working group collaborates with the IEEE SA Industry Connections program’s 6G Rural Connectivity and Intelligent Village activity. Projects considered for standards do not have to be winners. Any project that has successfully passed the first phase, completed the second-phase requirements, and requested a review may be considered. Typically, about half of the submitted projects are reviewed for possible standard implications, Dutta says. “We selected about 60 submissions that could be potentially standardized,” he says. “Out of those, we work with IEEE SA’s rapid reactive standards activity group to narrow them down to five or 10 that can be potentially standardized. “The CTU program is not only about developing a technology or implementing it, but also standardizing it so that people around the world can use the standard.” One such project led to the development of IEEE P1962, “Standard for Providing Broadband Connectivity to Rural Infrastructure by Utilizing Solar Panels as Optical Communication Receivers.” It specifies an architecture for an optical receiver that uses solar panels and associated circuitry to provide energy-efficient, affordable, and high-speed optical wireless communication. “CTU has created a platform for the world to bring their ideas to one single place where people can talk to each other about them,” Dixit says. “We are a unifying force. We bring these many dimensions together to connect the unconnected.” CTU Challenge Winner: Community Radio Bolo The Connecting the Unconnected program offers contestants benefits that extend beyond the recognition and rewards. One participant who benefited is Ritu Srivastava, a telecommunications engineer and IEEE member. She placed first in the 2022 technical concept category for her project, Community Radio Bolo (CR Bolo). The verb bolo means speak in Hindi. Internet services in India’s rural areas are either unavailable or have spotty coverage. People there rely on community radio stations to get news about local events and issues. There are about 300 such stations in India, Srivastava says. To provide broadband Internet access in the Bhadrak district of Odisha, India, she developed a cost-effective hybrid network that uses an online and offline wireless mesh network installed on the tower of community radio station Radio Bulbul. Several transceiver locations, known as access points, are located at schools and community centers that are within a 5- to 7-kilometer radius, connecting them with Radio Bulbul. CR Bolo includes a plug-and-play interactive voice response system that is coupled with the hybrid wireless network. The automated telephony technology routes callers using voice commands or a telephone’s keypad to the appropriate department. The system also has a direct-to-consumer platform where manufacturers sell their products through websites or mobile apps. “CR Bolo is a unique method of leveraging rural traditional technologies and infrastructure combined with modern technology to provide meaningful access to communities,” Srivastava says, “improving livelihood opportunities and creating social and economic viability for CR stations.” She says she plans to expand the project to other rural communities in India. She will incorporate a large language model and offer a learning management system to deliver training programs and educational courses, she says. Winning CTU inspired her to become a more active IEEE volunteer, she says. She is working with the IEEE Standards Association to develop guidelines for the architecture of broadband technology used in rural areas. Because of her entrepreneurial experience, CTU hired her in 2023 to assist with the challenge and the Empowerment Through Mentorship program. Srivastava is a director at Jadeite Solutions in New Delhi. The consulting company offers nonprofit organizations that are developing socioeconomic programs with project evaluation, impact assessment, financial reviews, and similar services. She credits CTU with giving her and her community-centered model more exposure: “The CTU challenge has given me a lot of other opportunities in terms of networking, funding resources, publishing my research in IEEE journals, and presenting at national and international conferences.”
When Ana Inês Inácio goes to work at the Netherlands Organization for Applied Scientific Research (TNO) in The Hague, she thinks about signals most people never notice: radio waves moving between satellites, sensors, and future wireless networks. The integrated circuits the research scientist designs lay the foundation for next-generation RF sensor systems critical to advancing radar technologies. Ana Inês Inácio EMPLOYER Netherlands Organization for Applied Scientific Research, TNO TITLE Scientist IEEE MEMBER GRADE Senior member ALMA MATER University of Aveiro, in Portugal Those invisible RF signals are only part of what earned the IEEE senior member her global recognition. Inácio recently received the IEEE–Eta Kappa Nu Outstanding Young Professional Award for “leadership in IEEE Young Professionals, fostering innovation and inclusivity, and pioneering advancements in RF sensor systems, bridging technical excellence with impactful community engagement.” The recognition from IEEE’s honor society reflects a career built along two parallel paths: advancing RF circuit design while helping engineers worldwide build professional communities. “I’ve always liked building things,” Inácio says. “Sometimes that means circuits; sometimes it means helping people connect and grow together.” That blend of technical innovation and global leadership gives her work impact far beyond the laboratory. EE lessons at the kitchen table Inácio grew up in Vales do Rio, a rural village near Covilhã in central Portugal. The region was known for farming and textiles, she says. Many residents worked in the textile industry, including her grandfather, who repaired machinery such as industrial looms. He became her first engineering teacher without ever holding the formal title. Through correspondence courses delivered by mail, he taught himself electrical systems. At home, he explained electricity to his granddaughter while he repaired the household’s appliances and wiring. “He would show me why something broke and how we could fix it,” she recalls. It sparked her curiosity. Her mother was a tailor who later managed other tailors. Her father left his factory job to attend culinary school and now cooks at an elder-care facility. Curiosity was a trait that ran through the family. By high school, Inácio was drawn equally to mathematics and physics and to biology and geology, she says. Encouragement from teachers and an uncle, an engineer, ultimately steered her toward electronics engineering. Conducting research on integrated circuits In 2008 she enrolled in an integrated master’s degree program in electrical and telecommunications engineering at the Universidade de Aveiro in Portugal, a five-year degree that combined undergraduate and graduate studies. An opportunity to study abroad changed her path. In 2012 she moved to the Netherlands to study at Eindhoven University of Technology (TU/e) through a six-month European exchange program with UAveiro. A professor encouraged her to stay on, so she completed her final year of masters in the Netherlands. She focused on techniques to improve the linearization of RF power amplifiers at Thales. The company, based in Hengelo, Netherlands, designs and produces electronics for defense and security. She earned her master’s degree from UAveiro in 2013. After graduating, she joined the integrated circuit design group at the University of Twente, in The Netherlands, conducting collaborative research as part of a nationally funded program on linearization techniques for RF front-end systems. The experience introduced her to international research culture and persuaded her to pursue a career abroad, she says. Engineering the future of wireless Inácio joined TNO in 2018 as a junior scientist and innovator: her first professional industry job. Today she designs integrated RF front-end systems—the circuits that allow devices to transmit and receive wireless signals. The components sit at the core of modern communications, enabling sensor networks, satellite links, and emerging 6G technologies. Her work aims to tackle a central challenge: getting greater performance from smaller chips. “As communication evolves, we need more bandwidth to transfer more data at higher speeds,” she says. “The question is how much complexity you can integrate into one system while keeping it efficient.” Unlike commercial lab environments, which reuse established designs, research projects often start from scratch. Each transmit-receive chain—the signal path that converts digital data to radio waves and back again—is tailored to specific requirements. Her work focuses on improving key circuit characteristics including linearity (ensuring that the signals that go out of the antenna are not distorted) as well as noise reduction (so design blocks can be optimized). Advanced design techniques help devices communicate more reliably while consuming less energy, a critical need for large sensor networks such as the Internet of Things, she says. Artificial intelligence is beginning to influence her field, she says: “AI is already helping us work faster. The real challenge is learning how to use it to make better designs, not just quicker ones.” A parallel vocation with IEEE While her technical career flourished in research labs, an additional journey unfolded through IEEE. Inácio joined the organization in 2009 as a student after discovering UAveiro’s student branch. What began as curiosity evolved into a long-term leadership path. She advanced through roles within Region 8—covering Europe, Africa, and the Middle East—one of the organization’s most culturally diverse regions. She was the student branch’s vice chair, and the region’s student representative for more than 22,000 IEEE members. She also served as the Young Professionals Affinity Group chair for the IEEE Benelux Section, which encompasses Belgium, the Netherlands, and Luxembourg. Currently, she serves as the immediate past chair of the Region 8 Young Professionals Committee, and vice chair and IEEE Member and Geographical Activities representative on the IEEE Young Professionals Committee. In those roles, she represents close to 135,000 IEEE members. In addition, she is an active member of the IEEE Microwave Theory and Technology Society, currently serving as its Young Professionals liaison. Her involvement with IEEE has boosted her professional confidence, she says. “IEEE didn’t directly give me promotions at my day job, but it gave me leadership skills, networking opportunities, and the ability to work with people from everywhere,” she says. Those experiences now shape her collaborations at TNO, where international teamwork is essential. The IEEE-HKN Outstanding Young Professional Award recognizes that combination of technical excellence and community impact, she says. Looking back, Inácio sees a clear thread connecting her childhood curiosity, her international career, and her IEEE leadership: Engineering, she says, is ultimately about people as much as it is about technology.
“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.
More than 30 years ago, in the mountain village of Mbem in northwest Cameroon, the moon and stars in the night sky were the only light young Jude Numfor knew after the sunset. Electricity had not yet reached his rural community. “There was one person in the village with a petrol generator and a small television,” Numfor says. “When he turned it on, all the children would run to his house and peep through the window.” That memory became the spark for Numfor’s mission: to bring electricity to rural communities like his hometown. To accomplish his goal, in 2006 he cofounded Wireless Light and Power, since renamed Renewable Energy Innovators Cameroon, and he serves as its CEO. REI Cameroon designs, installs, and maintains solar minigrids for rural electrification. The minigrids use photovoltaic technology and battery-energy storage systems to generate electricity at 50 hertz. The electricity is distributed through smart meters. In 2017 the company received a grant from IEEE Smart Village to fund the expansion of REI’s minigrid operations and refine its business model. Smart Village supports projects and organizations bringing electricity and educational and employment opportunities to remote communities worldwide. The program is supported by IEEE societies and donations to the IEEE Foundation. The partnership has led to a collaboration developing open source metering, a free, community-driven way of tracking energy usage. Unlike proprietary utility meters, the system allows users, researchers, and utilities to view, customize, and verify how data is collected, ensuring transparency in billing, consumption tracking, and grid management. Smart Village’s support has been pivotal, Numfor says: “It’s not just about money. We share ideas, we get advice, and we have made friends. Entrepreneurship is lonely, but with the [Smart Village] community, it is different.” From teenage tinkerer to entrepreneur Numfor’s first experience of life with electricity was in 2001, after moving in with a missionary family in the small village of Allat. They used solar panels to power their whole home—an unimaginable luxury in Mbem. “I could watch TV, eat ice cream, and turn on lights,” he says. “It made me wish my brothers in Mbem had the same opportunity.” Numfor’s curiosity about electricity was ignited when a motion-sensor solar light in the family’s home stopped working. He tinkered with the device to find out why. “My missionary family told me to play with it like a toy,” he says, laughingly. “I replaced the dead battery with a motorcycle battery and was able to bring the power back for the night.” Jude Numfor [right] testing a rechargeable solar lantern, which aimed to replace hazardous kerosene lamps—known locally as “bush lamps.”REI Cameroon His missionary parents encouraged Numfor to study technology and engineering on his own, as none of the country’s universities offered solar energy educational programs at the time. They built him a library and stocked it with books on engineering, management, and entrepreneurship. In 2006, armed with his new knowledge, Numfor launched Wireless Light and Power with a friend, Ludwig Teichgraber. The nonprofit aimed to replace hazardous kerosene lamps—known locally as “bush lamps”—with rechargeable solar lanterns. These solar lanterns—called “light packs”—were built locally by Numfor and a team of 11 young Cameroonians using PVC pipes, nickel-metal hydride batteries, and LED bulbs. Families rented the lamps for a small fee, swapping discharged lamps for fully charged ones at solar-powered charging kiosks when they ran out of power. The kiosks then recharged the depleted lamps, making them available for the next swap. “The solar lantern was safer and cleaner, plus it gave children a chance to read at night,” Numfor explains. “People loved them.” Between 2006 and 2010, his team replicated the model across several villages. But when the global financial crisis hit in 2008, donor support dwindled, forcing the organization to evolve. “We pivoted from being an NGO to a commercial venture,” he says. “That’s how REI was born.” Building solar minigrids to serve community needs The new company’s goal was to move away from the lanterns and toward full electrification of communities. Villagers’ aspirations changed, Numfor says, as they now wanted to power their TVs, music systems, and mobile phones. In response, in 2010, REI developed one of the first solar minigrids in West Africa. Using locally procured components, the prototype supplied steady power to six households. The minigrid system used 12 123-watt solar photovoltaic panels manufactured by Sharp, 16 12-volt 100 ampere-hour automatic gain control lead acid batteries, and a Xantrex charge controller and inverter. Locally sourced wooden light poles were erected to distribute electricity throughout the village. REI charged each household a fee for the electricity. “It was a product-market-fit moment,” Numfor says. “People immediately asked, ‘When can we get this, too?’” The word-of-mouth, grassroots growth caught the attention of global partners. Numfor connected with Smart Village and in 2017, REI Cameroon received its first seed grant from the program. With that funding, Numfor was able to grow organically and attract additional grants, including one from the U.S. Trade Development Agency (USTDA), in partnership with the U.S. Department of Energy’s National Renewable Energy Laboratory. REI has since expanded to six villages, providing power to more than 1,000 households and businesses. With a dedicated team of 16 people, the company operates in multiple regions of the country, each with unique terrain, languages, and cultural dynamics. “It wasn’t easy,” he acknowledges. “I’m not an academic person—I had to learn everything by doing. [Smart Village] helped me structure the project and grow as an entrepreneur.” Today, Numfor pays it forward by sharing his Smart Village experience and mentoring new entrepreneurs. Launching a coalition for smart metering Minigrids can’t operate efficiently without clarifying operating rules to ensure quality service requirements and consumer protection, while also enabling reliable and effective monitoring of the system, Numfor says. “We need to know how power is being used, detect problems early, and manage the minigrid from a distance,” he explains. Existing commercial smart-meter providers offer limited and proprietary solutions. One major provider left the market, making their technology infrastructure obsolete. “It’s risky for an entire sector to depend on a few companies for such a critical technology,” Numfor says. In 2025, with the help of the Smart Village technical community, Numfor convened a consortium of open-source power advocates, including the Africa Mini-Grid Developers Association, EnAccess, Energy IOT, and NESL. The goal was to develop an open smart metering system that is accessible, transparent, and sustainable for all energy providers. “These organizations are collaborating as Open Advanced Metering Infrastructure [OpenAMI], which is about giving control back to the people who deliver the energy,” he says. Scaling for impact Numfor’s passion has grown from bringing light to local rural communities to bringing light to his entire country. Just 54 percent of Cameroon’s citizens have access to electricity, according to the International Energy Agency. For Numfor, the challenge is not just technological—it’s social and economic as well. “Electricity is the most important enabler of education and economic growth today,” he says. “When you have power, you unlock everything else.” “Electricity changed my life. Now I want to make sure every child can grow up with that same light.” —Jude Numfor Across the villages where REI has installed sustainable electricity solutions, small businesses are flourishing. Barbershops hum with community chatter, food vendors can preserve perishables, and entrepreneurs run companies such as phone-charging stations and small mills. “Some villages even have laundromats now,” Numfor says proudly. “Electricity creates jobs and changes mindsets.” Still, it has been a bumpy journey. It wasn’t until 2025 that REI obtained its official authorization (license) from Cameroon’s government to produce and distribute electricity in off-grid areas using solar minigrids. This was a major milestone because REI is one of the first private enterprises in the country to receive such authorization. “We were stuck between pilot projects and growth,” he explains. “Our projects were successful, and there was community demand for more, but to grow, we needed investors who require legal guarantees before committing funds. Now we can scale up and attract investors.” REI plans to expand its reach dramatically, beginning with 134 new villages identified through a feasibility study supported by the USTDA. Their long-term goal is to electrify 760 villages across Cameroon by 2031. While authorization opens doors, financing remains one of REI’s biggest challenges. “The minigrid space doesn’t attract venture capitalists easily,” Numfor notes. “Our return on investment is under 15 percent, so it’s not a typical tech startup model. The real return here is the impact” on the community. He hopes to attract investors who understand that access to electricity drives education, health care, and entrepreneurship. “There are people out there who want to make meaningful change,” he says. “We just need to connect with them. When you electrify a village, you never know who the next innovator will be. Maybe it’s another kid like me, looking through a window, dreaming.” Finding skilled staff is another challenge, Numfor says. To address this, REI developed an intensive recruitment and training process. “It used to take years to find the right people,” he says. “Now, we can identify who fits our company culture within six months.” Numfor’s wife, Angela Taliklong, who joined the venture in 2010, now oversees administration and human resources. A brighter Cameroon and beyond Numfor offers simple words of advice to other impact-driven entrepreneurs: Keep moving. “One of my mistakes early on was trying to be perfect,” he says. “I was spending time improving prototypes instead of increasing the number of our project installations and scaling how many communities we could electrify. You must keep momentum. Don’t wait until everything is perfect before you move forward.” That mindset, rooted in resilience and experimentation, has defined his journey. Rajan Kapur, president of Smart Village, says Numfor is a “shining example” of the program’s vision: “scalable and enduring impact through local entrepreneurs, local procurement, and community engagement based on the use of IEEE technology in underserved communities.” With the ongoing Smart Village partnership, Numfor is determined to bring light and opportunity to every corner of Cameroon, and beyond. He already has launched REI Nigeria. “Electricity changed my life,” he says. “Now I want to make sure every child can grow up with that same light.”