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February 01, 2024
By
Julian Spector
Clean hydrogen is driving the next
Gulf Coast energy boom
HOUSTON — The scraggly grasses and standing water
at the Spindletop oil field, near Beaumont in east Texas, don’t
immediately suggest the site of a world-changing energy breakthrough.
But there, one morning in 1901, workers released a gusher of oil over
100 feet high, turning Texas into a global capital of fossil-fuel
extraction.
That coastal landscape soon drew a frenzied boomtown of oil rigs, and
they sucked out the ancient fuel that had pooled around the
subterranean salt dome. Eventually, the oil dried up, and the industry
left for opportunities elsewhere. Now, 4,000 feet below Spindletop,
the same geologic salt formation houses the molecule spurring the
latest Gulf Coast energy boom: hydrogen.
Unlike with oil, people put the hydrogen there. Spindletop’s salt dome
is just one node in a network of hydrogen production, pipelines and
underground storage that stretches across Texas and the Gulf region —
a kind of sub-industry serving the better-known petrochemical sector.
In response to more stringent air-quality regulations in the 1990s,
refiners needed more hydrogen to desulfurize their fuels. They also
needed it to “crack” heavy hydrocarbons.
Cleaning up tailpipe exhaust created problems for the climate:
Traditional hydrogen production essentially cooks methane with steam
and vents the resulting carbon dioxide into the atmosphere. It has
become one of the largest industrial greenhouse gas emitters in a
region infamous for industrial emissions.
But these days, everyone from ExxonMobil to pure-play renewable
developers is vying to turn Houston into a global center for
low-carbon hydrogen. Methane-based hydrogen producers are looking to
add carbon-capture devices and sequester emissions underground. Others
plan to funnel solar and wind power directly into electrolyzers,
producing hydrogen without any fossil fuels.
Cleaning up hydrogen could position the Gulf at the center of efforts
to decarbonize a range of dirty industries — think shipping,
long-distance trucking and carbon-intensive industrial processes. The
Biden administration has enacted an unprecedented tax credit to lower
the premium for “clean” hydrogen and invested $7 billion across seven
regional hubs to jump-start production, distribution and use of the
clean molecule. Houston’s HyVelocity Hub won a chunk of that change
last fall, and it is negotiating final terms with the Department of
Energy.
Thus far, though, clean-hydrogen production scarcely exists, and it
remains far from achieving industrial scale. Climate advocates hotly
contest what should even qualify as “clean” hydrogen and how exactly
this resource should be used to best serve the economywide transition
from fossil fuels.
Nevertheless, if I had to bet on where clean hydrogen takes off first,
my money’s on the Gulf Coast.
“There’s been a hydrogen economy here for a very long time, whereas
some of the other hubs are essentially building it from scratch,” said
Alan Alexander, a Houston-based partner at law firm Vinson & Elkins
specializing in hydrogen deals.
Over two weeks traversing the region this winter, I saw others were
putting their money on Houston, too.
“There’s a lot of interest and a lot of developers chasing projects,”
said Brett Perlman, CEO of the Center for Houston’s Future. The
nonprofit, which helped coordinate Houston’s winning hub proposal, had
tallied 35 hydrogen production projects in the region as of six months
ago. “Maybe some of them are doing it to address climate change,” but
they also want to make a return on their investment, Perlman noted.
Perlman witnessed the dawn of the competitive ERCOT electricity
markets as a Texas utility regulator, and he recognizes something in
the air now that’s reminiscent of those days. Two decades after
opening up the grid to entrepreneurial development, Texas has built
more renewables than any other state.
That urge for profit could do for hydrogen what it did for renewables,
but hydrogen’s climate calculus is not so clear-cut as, say, pushing
coal out of the power market. If Exxon and Chevron want to turn fossil
fuels into a “clean” product, much of which goes to refining other
fossil fuels, is that really advancing the transition to clean energy?
It’s already clear, though, that the Gulf hydrogen boom will merge the
fossil fuel and clean energy industries in fundamentally new ways. The
clean hydrogen economy needs skilled workers to install pipelines,
drill storage caverns and handle pressurized gases. A just transition
requires a realistic pathway for energy workers to shift to
decarbonization; hydrogen could deliver on that promise.
Critics call hydrogen a distraction, a boondoggle, a rearguard action
by fossil-fuel interests. But developers I spoke to who actually build
wind and solar are coming to view hydrogen as a force to unleash
untold quantities of renewable generation in the near future. And
they’re confident that the falling arc of renewable and electrolyzer
costs ultimately will make their clean hydrogen cheaper than a product
that requires tinkering with capture equipment and sequestering carbon
in perpetuity.
If they are right, the Gulf Coast will be reshaped by a new fuel, one
that reduces carbon emissions rather than increasing them.
The Gulf is already a hydrogen hub — it just isn’t clean yet
To understand how hydrogen could be produced cleanly at scale, I
needed to see how it’s made currently.
I drove east along Houston’s industrial shipping channel, past tanks
and tubes and towers, refineries that stretch like cities unto
themselves. Billowing smokestacks augmented the low gray clouds
pelting rain on the freeway.
I plowed through the spray from 18-wheelers and exited the highway
into coastal flatlands, scanning for the logo of a 120-year-old French
company that’s become a central player in the U.S. hydrogen market.
After passing through a series of gates, I alighted at Air Liquide’s
La Porte steam methane reforming facility, one of the company’s
largest in the world when completed in 2011.
Rich Fenza, the company’s director of operations for Gulf Coast
hydrogen production and pipeline network, met me in the control
center. On the wall of the snack room, I spotted a framed photograph
of Energy Secretary Jennifer Granholm, who visited on her first
official trip out of Washington, D.C. Fenza showed me around, pointing
out where methane flows in from the natural-gas network and gets
scrubbed of any residual sulfur before it rushes into the reformer.
That multistory insulated metal box holds 400 catalyst tubes at a
temperature of 2,000 degrees Fahrenheit. Methane and steam flush
through pipes until the heat and pressure split them into hydrogen
gas, carbon dioxide and carbon monoxide. The carbon dioxide flies
away; the hydrogen goes through a pressure swing absorber that
purifies it, before a compressor squeezes it into a bright red
pipeline and on to the petrochemical kingdoms of Texas City, Port
Arthur, Freeport.
The whole agglomeration of tanks, tubes and reformer, collectively
called a train, fits in a space not much bigger than a football field.
Air Liquide oversees a formidable Gulf Coast
empire. The company makes 116.5 million standard cubic feet of
hydrogen per day at La Porte; three other reformers bring regional
total production to 400 million “scuffs” each day. It operates 330
miles of hydrogen pipeline to deliver the goods, and it taps its
underground salt cavern at Spindletop when it needs to conduct
maintenance at production plants or has to meet surges in demand. The
cavern, which came online as a hydrogen storage facility in 2016,
holds 4.5 billion cubic feet at pressures up to 3,000 pounds per
square inch, so when Air Liquide opens a valve, the gas is ready to
go.
A handful of other legacy suppliers produce and distribute at this
level: Air Products, Linde. Some large refineries make their own
hydrogen on-site, pumping it directly into refining operations. All of
them vent carbon dioxide into the atmosphere.
Industrial emissions constitute roughly one-third of the greater
Houston area’s greenhouse gas pollution, Perlman said; hydrogen
produced via methane reforming singlehandedly generates about 25% of
those industrial emissions. To reduce carbon emissions, Houston must
clean up hydrogen production, and that will require doing something
new with that colorless, odorless gas flying out of methane reformers.
“Hydrogen has been around for quite some time, so the first step is to
take that hydrogen and decarbonize it,” said Matthieu Giard, the
French executive who runs Air Liquide’s entire Americas operation from
the top floor of a skyscraper west of downtown Houston.
Over at Air Liquide’s La Porte site, Fenza added that “there’s too
much invested in all these plants to just say, ‘They’re obsolete,
let’s shut them all down.’” Fenza’s team won a grant from the DOE to
conduct the engineering studies necessary to retrofit La Porte with
carbon-capture equipment. The relatively new La Porte site has ample
space to host this additional machinery. And Air Liquide has already
developed tools that can scrub carbon from a smokestack; it uses
similar techniques to isolate other industrial gas products.
Carbon capture has been tried many times on power plants, and it
typically proves expensive and ineffective. Running capture equipment
is energy-intensive, and projects meant to prove the efficacy of the
technology have routinely failed to capture as much carbon dioxide
from power plant fumes as they were supposed to.
Air Liquide, though, has operated its “Cryocap H2” technology on a
steam methane reformer in Port-Jérôme, France since 2015. Reformers
release carbon in a much more concentrated stream than power-plant
smokestacks, Giard said, enabling higher-caliber performance (the
process requires electricity, which could yield carbon emissions
depending on the source). The company says its French facility is able
to capture 95% or more of its carbon dioxide output, which Air Liquide
then sells. An alternative technique for hydrogen production called
autothermal reforming, or ATR, works even better with carbon capture.
“It still starts with a hydrocarbon feedstock, but it keeps all the
reaction products, including the carbon, at high pressure,” said Fenza.
“By keeping it at high pressure, [the carbon] is a lot easier to
remove.”
Giard described ATR technology as “something that we can do
tomorrow,” but acknowledged the company doesn’t yet operate a
full-scale ATR plant. Air Liquide is building one in Japan.
"There's too much invested in all these plants to just say, ‘They're
obsolete, let's shut them all down.'"
So while hydrogen with carbon capture hasn’t scaled up yet, Perlman
told me “it’s an integration issue, not a technology issue.” The
industry doesn’t need to invent anything new or wait for dramatic cost
reductions.
But the carbon still has to go somewhere. Here too, the energy
industry has experience. The Gulf already hosts some carbon dioxide
pipelines, and the technical details of transporting carbon from a
steam methane reformer to storage are well understood. Long-term
sequestration similarly relies on existing techniques.
“It’s basically production in reverse,” said Kenneth Medlock, senior
director of the Center for Energy Studies at Rice University. “That’s
nothing new; oil and gas producers have been doing that for a long
time.”
Over the last 50 years, American operators have injected more than 1
billion tons of carbon dioxide underground, said Ben Grove, a
geoscientist who tracks carbon sequestration for climate think tank
Clean Air Task Force. Most of that went into oil fields to flush out
more fossil fuel, a technique known as enhanced oil recovery, but the
CO2 has stayed down there.
Oil and gas companies are now focusing on sequestering carbon in areas
that don’t have fossil fuel deposits, which earns them a higher tax
credit from the Inflation Reduction Act. This entails drilling through
nonporous cap rock and pumping carbon down to a porous geological
layer, like sandstone, where it squeezes into minuscule gaps in the
rock.
It turns out, “the best storage potential in the country is in the
Gulf Coast region — it’s some of the best in the world,” Grove said.
Lastly, any industry that depends on methane as a feedstock must
confront upstream emissions of the potent greenhouse gas. Independent
research has found that methane leakage from wellhead to customer is
much higher than previously thought, and unburned methane warms the
planet 28 times more than carbon dioxide over a 100-year period.
To become truly low-carbon, Houston’s fossil-fueled hydrogen ecosystem
would need to eliminate upstream methane emissions, capture almost all
emissions from hydrogen production, pump this industrial-scale volume
of CO2 underground, and keep it there, forever. The hydrogen industry
has never performed all these steps in sequence.
Several workers look at an array of monitors showing pipeline status
The Gulf isn’t just looking at decarbonizing
existing SMRs; economic-development types and energy tycoons alike
want to build a bunch of brand-new methane-based hydrogen facilities.
After all, if hydrogen becomes the fuel of choice for decarbonizing
crucial industrial activities, that will require far more volume than
what’s coming out of methane reformers today. This proposed buildout —
supported by the DOE hub grant — would lock in additional gas
consumption for decades to come, based on the expectation that
emissions will be captured and permanently stored.
All of this raises the stakes enormously on whether carbon capture
works in practice. But that’s not the only path forward for the Gulf’s
hydrogen boom. A different cohort of climate-oriented entrepreneurs
aims to prove they can make clean hydrogen, cheaply, at scale, while
ditching fossil fuels entirely.
Renewable megaprojects incoming
The pines rise from sandy Mississippi soil, mastlike against the
horizon. But where I stand, the timber crop is long gone, leaving a
white crust exposed between fluffy-seeded grasses.
“Is that the salt?” I ask my hosts, the executive team of Hy Stor. The
company plans to use the former logging tract to store vast amounts of
renewably powered hydrogen. It turns out I’m a little off. Jill
Kinnard, Hy Stor’s senior vice president of land, pipelines and
contract management, tells me that the rock-solid salt formation known
as the Richton Dome starts roughly 400 feet below us and stretches
down thousands of feet beyond that. That’s where the renewably
generated hydrogen will go.
Some of the most ambitious ideas for clean hydrogen in the Gulf come
not from fossil fuel developers but from dyed-in-the-wool green
progenitors, using only renewable electricity to create vast amounts
of hydrogen. The bigness is a strategic necessity for this form of
production, commonly described as “green” hydrogen, said Nabil
Bennouna, a principal for clean hydrogen at think tank RMI. (Canary
Media is an independent affiliate of RMI.)
“In order to get green hydrogen to a price that is competitive against
alternatives, you need scale,” Bennouna said. “If you are interested
in having a long-term viable business model, those are the ambitions
you need to have.”
Before I left Houston, I met a team of developers from Apex Clean
Energy at a restaurant a few parking lots over from Air Liquide’s
skyscraper. For Apex, “Hydrogen is a way to bring more wind and solar
online,” said Laura Merten, a policy manager tracking hydrogen for the
company.
The plan is to build what could be the nation’s biggest renewable
power plant, many gigawatts strong, deep in West Texas. There’s no way
for that power to reach customers on the Gulf Coast — the grid simply
can’t carry that much without woefully expensive upgrades. Apex
proposes turning that ideal West Texas wind and sunshine into hydrogen
on the spot, then shooting it through a brand-new pipeline, roughly
paralleling the Rio Grande, hundreds of miles to the coast.
Apex, a veteran wind, solar and battery storage development firm based
in Charlottesville, Virginia, has never built a pipeline. But,
conveniently, its corporate cousin Epic Midstream has experience
running fossil gas pipelines in the region. The Apex Rio project
nonetheless represents a tremendous undertaking, which the company
hopes to bring online in the latter half of this decade.
Over in southern Mississippi, Hy Stor’s vision operates on a similarly
grand scale. The company, with just a dozen full-time employees, has
acquired rights to nearly 70,000 acres across several counties in a
state with almost no renewable power installed today. In just the
first phase, Hy Stor will add around 2.7 gigawatts of electrolyzers,
powered by twice that capacity of onshore wind, solar and geothermal.
This off-grid design ensures that the hydrogen will be clean, a
commitment that attracts customers who are serious about
decarbonization, CEO Laura Luce told me.
"The best storage potential in the country is in the Gulf Coast region
— it’s some of the best in the world."
But wind and solar produce, famously, not all the time. To neutralize
the downsides of this very cheap but intermittent power source, Luce
and Co. will pipe their super-clean hydrogen into underground caverns
ahead of customer deliveries, then top up the caverns on an ongoing
basis as the renewables are used to generate more.
Hy Stor is also developing industrial parks for customers who want to
turn super-clean hydrogen into things like sustainable fertilizer,
green steel, chemicals or maritime fuel. One of these sits 10 miles
down the road from the Richton Dome site, on 1,100 acres connected to
highway and rail.
How does one go about creating massive and cost-effective underground
hydrogen storage? Hy Stor first acquired land rights, subsurface
rights, water rights and the necessary permits to burrow into that
immense, subterranean bulb of salt far below my feet. The plan is to
pump down (nonpotable) water from the nearby Leaf River to dissolve
the salt and suck out the ensuing brine through a supersized straw.
Layer by layer, over about two years, this procedure will excavate a
hollow cylinder, hundreds of feet tall but located thousands of feet
underground. From where I stood soaking in the slantwise afternoon sun
of early December, all I’d be able to see is a fenced-off clearing
with some piping protruding from the ground.
And that’s just one cavern in one salt dome. Hy Stor has the rights to
10 different salt domes, eight in Mississippi, two in Louisiana. Each
dome is large enough to house multiple caverns drilled at safe
distances from each other, Luce said, at least 1,000 feet from
wellhead to wellhead. Someday not long from now, Hy Stor could be
operating hundreds of clean-hydrogen storage caverns, provided the
company enlists enough industrial demand to justify that scale of
drilling.
If that all sounds hard to fathom, Luce points out that she’s drilled
storage caverns for natural gas in her career prior to Hy Stor. Some
of those caverns occupy portions of the same salt domes Hy Stor is
targeting now.
“We’re creating something that doesn’t exist, but all the ingredients
are there,” Luce said. “In Mississippi, you’ve got all the things
that are hard to build from scratch.”
Like the salt domes. Back at Hy Stor’s office on the Mississippi
coast, Luce opened a geological textbook called, fittingly, Salt
Domes, and unfurled a map of all the known formations in the Gulf
Coast. Scores of them dot the coastal belt, keepsakes of a more
tectonically turbulent prehistory. Many have been thoroughly
documented because of their tendency to house oil and gas deposits.
On the left is a map of salt domes in the United States; on the right
is a dusty, winding trail amongst tall green trees
Hy Stor CEO Laura Luce secured rights to 10 different Gulf Coast salt
domes, which can be excavated to store hydrogen gas.
Making underground caverns to store clean hydrogen fundamentally
differs from, say, developing novel long-duration grid batteries to
hold clean electricity for days or months. Hy Stor doesn’t need to
invent anything or prove some novel combination of technologies. It
just has to combine technologies that have already been well proven.
There are risks, such as uncertainties around securing the rights to
run pipelines to connect electrolyzers with caverns and customers.
Having reported on the occasional local opposition to inert solar
power plants, I assumed that getting permission to carve up the land
to run pipes of combustible gas through it might be challenging.
But in Mississippi, pipelines already crisscross the working
landscape. I originally met the Hy Stor team at Fulmer’s Farmstead, a
bucolic pecan orchard with a general store and meat-and-three lunch
service. Kinnard developed dozens of natural gas and carbon dioxide
pipelines over a two-decade career before landing at Hy Stor. While
filling me in on the finer points of rights of way and surface titles,
she mentioned she’d run one pipeline through this very property — over
there, between the pecan trees.
"We’re creating something that doesn’t exist, but all the ingredients
are there."
Once you get the necessary permissions, it’s just a matter of digging
a trench, covering the pipe with enough dirt to safely drive over, and
making sure the landowner doesn’t build on top of it, Kinnard said.
She handed me a representative cross-section of the likely hydrogen
pipe: PVC, 8-inch diameter, about the same width as a basketball.
At one point, as we drove out of the Richton Dome parcel, a Hy Stor
member in the car fielded a call from someone responding to a pipeline
survey request. The company needs permission to send teams onto
people’s property to visually assess where to run the pipe. Pretty
soon, the caller was inquiring whether Hy Stor was hiring.
The energy industry employs a sizable portion of the workforce in
Mississippi, but the state itself no longer produces much oil and gas.
That means Mississippians spend their shifts on offshore rigs in the
Gulf, or over in the Permian in Texas — far from family and home. Hy
Stor pitches a chance to stay put and earn a living with the same
skills: drilling, pipeline construction, pressurized gas management.
“We can make our own energy in our own backyard — that’s pretty
inspiring,” Luce said. Hy Stor plans to hire thousands of workers for
construction and hundreds for ongoing operations, paid above the
prevailing wage.
In Louisiana, the still-dominant oil and gas industry has nonetheless
shed thousands of jobs in the last two decades, said Lacy McManus,
executive director of future energy at Greater New Orleans, the
regional economic development agency. She and other Gulf Coast
economic boosters talk about hydrogen production, and related carbon
pipelines and sequestration projects, as growth sectors within the
energy industry that could boost regional employment. Perlman with the
Center for Houston’s Future said that hydrogen “could certainly be a
big driver of economic growth” for the region in the coming decade.
Two men and two women, all in corporate branded puffer vests, stand in
front of tall green trees.
But to actually change regional employment prospects, developers like
Hy Stor need one more piece of the puzzle to fall into place: firm
customer commitments. Before Hy Stor starts drilling its caverns, it
has to have prospective buyers lined up who are willing to design and
engineer new factories that can receive clean hydrogen from the future
caverns. It’s like choreographing an intricate tango while dancing it.
Hy Stor has been chasing this vision for several years, with
investment from Canadian pension fund Connor, Clark & Lunn. Now,
several customers are expected to finalize their factory investments
in the first half of 2024, which would give Hy Stor enough certainty
to break ground and start delivering carbon-free hydrogen by late 2026
or early 2027. The company can drill more caverns as additional
industrial users lock in orders.
If contracts fall into place and construction stays on schedule, the
long-promised little molecule will flow beneath the Mississippi dirt
in just three years.
The long game: Which clean hydrogen will win?
Dozens of companies are racing to produce low-carbon hydrogen. What
isn’t clear is who will win out, and whether this competitive mélange
will ultimately lower planet-warming emissions. To properly evaluate
carbon impacts, though, analysts need empirical data on operating
projects.
“There are lots of uncertainties associated with new technologies — we
need better data on what the negative path dependencies are for
certain production pathways,” said RMI’s Bennouna.
The methane-based hydrogen camp has a head start, commercially: Steam
methane reformers already operate in the region; companies just need
to figure out how to profitably combine them with carbon capture and
sequestration. In contrast, renewable electrolysis has only happened
at small scale: Air Liquide set a world record when it installed 20
megawatts of electrolyzers in Quebec in 2021. A company called H2B2
claimed the largest renewable electrolysis site in the U.S. when it
opened a facility with 3 megawatts of capacity in Fresno late last
year, using biogas from a nearby dairy farm. These early projects make
liquefied hydrogen for vehicles, in part because they aren’t big
enough to serve the industrial customers that get hydrogen delivered
via pipeline.
Renewable hydrogen developers worry about getting their hands on
enough electrolyzers, since the supply chain has never executed at the
scale that Gulf Coast entrepreneurs need. They also have to contend
with the well-documented obstacles to adding huge amounts of
renewables to the grid — hence Hy Stor’s and Apex’s predilection for
building off-grid power plants.
Air Liquide takes an ecumenical perspective on hydrogen technologies:
Its corporate mission is to sell oxygen, nitrogen and hydrogen, not
hydrocarbons. The company’s portfolio of inventions includes steam
methane reformers, autothermal reformers and carbon capture, but it
recently opened a factory in Berlin with Germany’s Siemens Energy to
mass-produce electrolyzers; it can make 1 gigawatt worth of them per
year now, growing to 3 gigawatts by 2025.
“Today, if you want to decarbonize very fast, the best way is probably
to do some SMR and ATR with carbon capture, because the technology is
there, at scale,” Air Liquide’s Giard said. “It’s competitive, and
the carbon-capture piece is existing in Texas, so that’s fantastic.
But let’s not discount electrolysis, because we have a lot of
[renewable] energy in Texas.”
Electrolysis fans believe plummeting costs for renewables and
electrolyzers give them a long-term edge. Both technologies rely on
modular, mass-produced building blocks that have been proven to
decline in cost predictably over time (see the runaway success of
renewables in Texas). SMRs and carbon capture, on the other hand,
require large upfront capital investment, and that’s not about to
change. If the more bullish visions for renewables come true, clean
electrolytic hydrogen will simply become cheaper, putting a damper on
the business prospects for new carbon-capture hydrogen.
Developers in both camps also need to figure out what kind of
infrastructure the Gulf should build to deliver this new product.
Regional boosters like to talk up the benefits of the existing
pipeline network, but the truth is, those pipelines aren’t open to
newcomer hydrogen producers.
A map showing planned and potential locations for clean hydrogen
projects in the Gulf Coast region
“We have private-carrier pipelines for ourselves, and so do our
colleagues in the industry,” Air Liquide’s Fenza explained. “We feel
like that’s the best model to really deliver most cost-effectively for
the customers and for ourselves.”
The pipes run from each producer to the customers who signed bilateral
contracts with them. It calls to mind the earliest days of the
electric grid, when each power company ran its own wires to customers,
shading the streets of New York City with an overlapping mess of
redundant wires.
Granted, the hydrogen network won’t need to reach as many destinations
as the electrical grid. Air Liquide’s Giard assured me the
private-carrier model works just fine.
“For us, it’s very important to master our universe, A to Z, and make
sure that we can provide that very high reliability that [customers]
want,” he said. “So having a private network is definitely important
for us.”
The hardcore renewables developers tend to prefer the alternative.
“We are evaluating overbuilding the capacity of the pipeline to
support others injecting,” Merten said of Apex’s West Texas project.
“The goal is to support and help develop this whole hydrogen
economy.”
Hy Stor plans to eventually open its pipeline network to others,
provided they can guarantee carbon-free hydrogen; the company doesn’t
want to jeopardize the high standard it’s pitching to customers.
Perlman believes open-access pipelines could expand the overall market
for clean hydrogen. He wants to replicate what Louisiana’s Henry Hub
did for natural gas: connecting so many different pipelines produced
the most dynamic market for gas trading in the country, maybe the
world, Perlman explained.
“We want to create this market that basically expands, and to do that,
we’ll have to have the same sort of interconnected infrastructure,”
Perlman said. “You want not just physical transactions — you want
financial transactions, and you want transparency.”
The hitch is, nobody’s developed a framework for regulating hydrogen
pipelines, beyond the basic pipeline-safety duties overseen by the
U.S. Department of Transportation. The Texas legislature passed a law
last year to grant clear hydrogen-pipeline jurisdiction to the Texas
Railroad Commission.
“Because everything’s bigger in Texas, we have enough pipeline
capacity to have our own sort of regulatory jurisdiction, and that’s
what we’re trying to do,” Perlman said.
The to-do list for hydrogen developers remains daunting: build a
facility at a scale the world has never seen and convince large
industrial customers to pay an initial green premium for the same
commodity; invent new rules of the road for a shared pipeline network
that doesn’t exist yet; and outcompete other developers attempting
their own version of this novel low-carbon commodity.
But the clean energy transition is rife with unresolved challenges:
overhauling America’s sclerotic process for permitting transmission
lines, figuring out how to store renewable power far longer than any
battery has before, unlocking the secret of nuclear fusion to power
humanity. Compared to those tasks, inventing a clean hydrogen economy
in the Gulf doesn’t look so gnarly. Many of the steps, like making the
perfect storage vessel thousands of feet below the earth, have been
done before, repeatedly. The region knows how to vigorously exploit a
hydrocarbon energy boom; it just needs to unleash the hydro, but hold
the carbon.
Verdagy manufactures an advanced AWE electrolyzer system that has
superior performance to almost any system in the market — high current
densities and the largest membranes leading to higher hydrogen
production, high efficiencies leading to lower LCOH, and wide dynamic
range and fast turndowns to seamlessly integrate with renewables. In
addition to its Silicon Valley factory, Verdagy operates its R&D and
highly automated commercial pilot plants in Moss Landing, California,
where it continues to advance its cutting-edge technology.
Green Play Ammonia™, Yielder® NFuel Energy.
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exactrix@exactrix.com
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