A Fool’s Day for Fossil Fools

It was a fine April afternoon in Nevada, and the good citizens, who had just shaken off the winter chill, gathered with an old-fashioned purpose: to make a racket about their power bills. Armed with banners, voices, and a fair bit of indignation, they set upon NV Energy like a debtor sets upon a banker who’s been too free with his late fees.

“We want clean energy, no more fossil fuels, and rates that don’t make a fella choose between keeping the lights on or buying his supper,” declared Tori Lee, a local firebrand with the Progressive Leadership Alliance of Nevada. The crowd hummed their agreement, and one could almost hear the silent prayers of every overworked air conditioner in the valley, hoping their next run wouldn’t break the bank.

Tuesday’s protest was aptly named “Fossil Fools Day,” a jab at NV Energy and its apparent love affair with coal and gas. The timing was no accident, as across the nation, similar scenes played out in front of the many-headed hydra that is Berkshire Hathaway’s utility empire. From the plains to the deserts, common folk were crying out for relief from rates that climb faster than a cat up a tree with a dog on its tail.

Berkshire Hathaway, ever the silent type when confronted with an uncomfortable truth, declined to comment. One can imagine the company men, tucked safely in their fine offices, peering through drawn curtains, hoping the rabble outside would tire themselves out before supper.

NV Energy, for its part, did not sit entirely silent. Meghin Delaney, their chosen spokesperson, stepped forward with the grace of a woman well-practiced in delivering news folks would rather not hear.

“We’re adding renewables all the time,” she assured the crowd, “but the battery storage needed for a full switch would cost more than an honest man’s patience.”

In the meantime, they planned to do away with coal—by 2025, at least—which to some ears sounded a bit like promising to start a diet after the next holiday feast.

But it wasn’t just the energy source that had people fuming–it was the cost. NV Energy, ever mindful of its bottom line, has put in for a nine percent rate increase, which may shrink under the watchful eye of the Public Utilities Commission, but only after several hundred days of haggling—an eternity for anyone staring down the arrival of the summer heat.

For those struggling the most, NV Energy dangled a small olive branch. “We’re looking at removing the basic service charge for low-income customers, saving them about twenty bucks a month,” Delaney noted as if a drop of water might quench the thirst of a parched man.

And yet, despite these assurances, the protesters were unconvinced. “I’m really worried about what this summer is going to bring for some people,” Lee admitted. It was hard to blame her. With the price of everything but bad news going up, the promise of an eventual rate decrease sounded about as comforting as a banker promising to lower your mortgage—after he’s raised it twice.

NV Energy sent out a letter to customers, thick with assurances that their investments in infrastructure would lower costs in the long run. They spoke of transmission lines, battery storage, new proposals for low-income rates, and solar adjustments. They even produced a fine chart comparing 2024’s bills to the projected 2025 costs, claiming customers would pay less so long as they didn’t dare use any extra energy.

By 2030, they say, half of Nevada’s energy will be renewable, a number promising until one considers how often promises turn to dust in the desert wind. For now, the people wait, sweating under the weight of another long summer, hoping the power stays on—and they can afford to pay for it when it does.