The North American Electric Reliability Corp. estimated that the rule would force only 1 percent of the country's entire coal-fired fleet to retire.
Even so, if Luminant followed through on its threat, ERCOT concluded that the loss of the Monticello units wouldn't threaten the Texas grid.
Peter Ryan
Peter Ryan
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For the moment, though, the issue is moot. On December 30, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the D.C. Circuit granted Luminant's, Texas' and other plaintiffs' requests to stay the EPA's rule, pending oral arguments in April.
Energy Future is cagey when it comes to discussing what the future holds for the company and for the Monticello power plant.
"Given that [the Cross-State Air Pollution Rule] is not currently in effect due to a court-ordered stay and in light of other environmental rules currently being issued by EPA, the near-term environmental compliance requirements for our fleet are in flux," Energy Future spokesman Allan Koenig told the Observer. "Therefore, we are still evaluating what additional investments to make going forward and on what schedule."
None of this is to say there aren't dark times ahead. But Luminant's troubles — and those of the Texas grid — have little to do with the EPA.
On February 9, 2012, just over a year since rolling blackouts darkened Texas, a few state lawmakers on the House State Affairs Committee finally began discussing the real reason why the lights may go out. As early as the summer of 2013, ERCOT predicts Texas will not have enough electricity to meet peak demand. And it's not because of EPA regs. It's because a grand experiment — one that is unique in the country — has failed. Our electric system relies not on regulators or politicians to set the daily price of power, but on the market. It's like the price of oil, pushed and pulled by a thousand different market forces, and it's not just natural gas prices on a given day.
It works like this: Imagine a stack of bids offered by the wholesale generators. They're divided into tranches by an amount of electricity at a given price. Most of the time, retail electricity providers can turn around and sell the electricity at or around the price set by natural gas to satisfy your average demand on, say, a mild spring day. When the grid gets stressed by spikes in demand during a heat wave, more electricity is available, but at higher prices. That's when utilities make most of their money, and it's this series of peaks and valleys that characterizes electric demand in Texas.
Most of the year, we don't use all that much electricity. The needs of the state are readily served by workhorse, coal-fired plants like Luminant's. But during certain times of the day (in the morning, for example, when everybody is getting ready for work) demand jumps. That's where the natural gas-fired power plants come in. They make up 60 percent of all generators in the state, and most of them serve no other purpose than to kick on during those busy hours to supplement supply. That's when wholesale prices are highest, because high demand and scarcity drive rates up into the top tier of that stack of bids. It's the only time they can compete with a cheaply run coal-fired plant. Yet when you account for their fixed costs, the mortgage on the plant and bondholders owed dividends, running a few hundred hours a year — as lucrative as $3,000 per megawatt-hour may be — is not going to be enough to tempt an energy company or a bank to take the risk of putting up the money for a new plant, especially when natural gas prices are low. But it's during the peak demand times ERCOT predicts the Texas grid will thirst for peaker plants the most.
Take into account the fact that the population of the DFW area increases, according to former Dallas Fed chief economist Michael Cox, by 160,000 a year — roughly the population of Tempe, Arizona — and you begin to see why the soundness of Texas' electricity grid may soon be compromised. Other electrical grids around the country are constellations of interconnected states. But here in the Lone Star State, we chose to go it alone. But for a handful of tie-ins, our grid is sealed off from the rest of the country.
"Bottom line for this panel," State Affairs chair Byron Cook began. "If we don't bring on more generation, you're not gonna be able to sit here and maintain the dependability of this grid in the future?"
ERCOT CEO Trip Doggett's reply was succinct and devastating in its implications: "That's correct, sir."
As he testified, Texas had just passed the 10-year anniversary of deregulation.
It was the solution to a problem Texans didn't know they had, lobbied for ardently by now-defunct, Houston-based energy and commodities company Enron. Historically, we enjoyed some of the lowest utility rates in the country under a regulated system that guaranteed generators a certain rate of return, both on profits and on the construction of new power plants.
Deregulation, we were told, would open the market up to competition, driving down prices for the ratepayer. That didn't happen. In fact, prices rose. Dallasites and Houstonians, in particular, have paid some of the highest electricity bills in the country. And when gas prices fell as the Barnett Shale glutted the market, rates paid by Texans living outside of deregulated areas fell by twice as much as those inside.