Joe Biden Supports a Windfall Profits Tax on Oil

Past Joe Biden, anyway.

On the right, a young Joe Biden, circa 1979, when he was diligently making the argument for a windfall profits tax on oil companies

There is, I think, no real argument against a windfall profits tax on oil. It’s not like it’s gotten more expensive to produce oil in recent months; the price has soared only because Vladimir Putin (long a partner of the big western oil companies, who financed his government lavishly) invaded Ukraine, causing prices to spike. This is the definition of a windfall, one that has given huge profits to oil companies, who have used them to buy back shares and enrich themselves and their biggest investors. That’s why bills have been introduced in the House and in the Senate, and why hundreds of civil society groups support them, and why huge majorities of the American people tell pollsters they want the laws to pass. The White House has made no decision, so perhaps they should consult Past Joe Biden. Here’s what he said in 1981, when the Reagan administration was trying to repeal the windfall profits tax he’d helped pass in the 1970s.

Of all the individuals and businesses in America, oil interests should be the last concern of the Senate. Nevertheless, some $33 billion in tax revenues over 10 years were lost when the Senate repealed—over my strong objections--sev-
eral of the provisions of the crude oil windfall profit tax.
Mr. President, the massive world oil price increases of the last 10 years in conjunction with oil price decontrol has netted the oil companies and oil interests of this Nation unprecedented, unjustified and unearned windfall profits. The oil windfall profit tax law that we passed last year set out to recoup only a small portion much too small in my opinion—of these profits.

What’s changed since then? Two things. One, we now know that the oil companies are also responsible not just for overheating the planet but also for lying about it to head off legislative action. And two, Reagan’s view of the world (markets know best) triumphed, so that Senators like Biden eventually learned to hew to the basic idea that business should be cossetted. That underlying physical reality, and that dominant worldview, are now in sharp juxtaposition: we’ll find out how much of the young Biden remains as he takes on, or doesn’t, Big Oil. So far he (and the climate and energy team around him) seem tragically willing to play Big Oil’s game—the government’s Export Import Bank seems ready to offer public funding for big expansions in LNG infrastructure, something that private capital won’t back and that is completely unnecessary if the goal is to get more gas on a short-term basis to Europe. Call it a windfall present from the taxpayers to a business sector already raking it in. And if it happens, call it the place where the faith of the climate movement in the president it helped elect may finally start to decisively unravel.

Past Joe Biden would have reacted clearly here. We know this because after the Iranian seizure of the American embassy in 1979, he embraced a call for dramatic energy conservation in order to curb American consumption. As he said on the Senate floor at the time

We have authorized billions of additional Federal dollars to encourage voluntary conservation, and our only long term hope -- the development of renewable energy resources. But all of these measures, Mr. President, will take time to have their desired effect.

We, therefore, a brief time ago passed "the Emergency Energy Conservation Act" to give the President the authority to invoke mandatory conservation measures in the event of urgent need.

I say to my fellow Senators, we are today faced with just such an urgent need. That is why we seek support of the amendment before us now.

It is, of course, sad that we knew fifty years ago that our “only long-term hope” was the “development of renewable energy,” and that we haven’t done much to make it happen in the time since, even as the discovery we were warming the planet dramatically upped the stakes. But we have another chance, given the moment created by the Ukraine war. The plan then—forced conservation—is beyond anything the current political system would support: after four decades of Reaganite hyper-individualism, we’re spoiled and wouldn’t stand for it. But the windfall profits tax—that should be a political no-brainer; so should a LendLease type effort to send heat pumps off to Europe to cut their demand. So far the White House has said nothing definitive about either one.

More climate news from around the world this week:

+The fear that ‘carbon abatement’ schemes planned for some mythical future will allow us to keep spewing carbon in the actual present gets connected to some numbers in this new account from Linda Schneider in Grist:

The result of betting on speculative and dangerous technologies is that it buys the fossil fuel industry more time for extraction: In scenarios that limit global temperature rise to 1.5 degrees Celsius (2.7 degrees Fahrenheit), the new report states, the use of coal, oil, and gas must decrease by median values of 95, 60, and 45 percent, respectively, compared to 2019. This allows for substantial fossil fuel emissions well into the midcentury on the assumption that we’ll be able to capture and remove the excess carbon. The report explicitly states that carbon dioxide removal “can allow countries to reach net zero emissions without phasing out all fossil fuels.” This almost guarantees we overshoot 1.5 degrees.

It’s not that this tech wouldn’t be useful; it’s that nothing should slow us down from building out renewable energy as fast as we can right now. We’ve got to make it through to “later” for this kind of stuff to do us any good.

Meanwhile, big Silicon Valley players like Google and Facebook are launching a nearly billion dollar scheme for carbon removal by 2030, in a move that should speed up research and let us see what the prospects for this tech really are

+Amory Lovins has some numbers too, in his case to underline the difficulties of making nuclear power economically viable.

In over 24,000 actual market projects, new unsubsidized renewables make electricity 5–13 times cheaper than nuclear newbuild according to BNEF; merchant bank Lazard analysis finds 3–8 times. Per dollar, renewables therefore provide 3–13 times more kWh and can displace 3–13 times more fossil-fueled generation. Still-cheaper efficiency is even more climate-effective.

+Climate scientist Peter Kalmus, arrested in civil disobedience actions with many of his colleagues last week, explains why researchers are increasingly willing to take to the streets:

Earth breakdown is much worse than most people realize. The science indicates that as fossil fuels continue to heat our planet, everything we love is at risk. For me, one of the most horrific aspects of all this is the juxtaposition of present-day and near-future climate disasters with the “business as usual” occurring all around me. It’s so surreal that I often find myself reviewing the science to make sure it’s really happening, a sort of scientific nightmare arm-pinch. Yes, it’s really happening.

+If you read the first chapter of Kim Stanley Robinson’s climate epic Ministry for the Future, you’ll know why news of an “unusually early” heatwave across northern India is—well, I’d say chilling, but that’s not quite right.

+I had a long piece in the Guardian, developing a theme I’ve used this newsletter to sketch out previously: fossil fuel underwrites an awful lot of despotism

I can’t have an oilwell in my backyard because, as with almost all backyards, there is no oil there. Even if there was an oilwell, I would have to sell what I pumped to some refiner, and since I’m American, that would likely be a Koch enterprise. But I can (and do) have a solar panel on my roof; my wife and I rule our own tiny oligarchy, insulated from the market forces the Putins and the Kochs can unleash and exploit. The cost of energy delivered by the sun has not risen this year, and it will not rise next year.

+Writing in the American Prospect, Robert Pollin calls for the nationalization of the U.S. oil industry to save the planet

The main argument for nationalizing the U.S. oil giants is straightforward. The single most important factor causing climate change is that we continue to burn oil, natural gas, and coal to produce energy. It follows that we must stop burning fossil fuels to have any chance of moving the global economy onto a viable climate stabilization path. By contrast, the purpose of private fossil fuel companies in the U.S. and elsewhere is precisely to make profits from selling oil, coal, and natural gas, no matter the consequences for the planet and regardless of how the companies may present themselves in various high-gloss, soft-focus PR campaigns.

Only one chapter of our nonviolent epic yarn this week, because it’s long—and because it concludes year 2 of 3 in the life of this sage. If you want to catch up on chapters 1-62 of The Other Cheek, the archive is here.

As the assembly moved down the hall toward the dining room, a very old man with a cane and a limp intercepted Allie and Cass, who were walking together. “Miss Salgado,” he said. “My name is Leslek Vukovic. “I just wanted you to know my brother spoke very highly of you—admired your spirit enormously. Enormously.”

“Wait,” said Cass, who felt herself looking quickly down at his foot. “You were his brother?”

“Indeed,” said the old man. “I was the one who was . . . nonviolent before he was.”

“We’re honored to meet you,” said Cass, introducing herself.

“The honor is mine, Miss Goldfarb. My brother was very grateful for your help this last year. He’d known the end was coming, but as you probably have seen, that only made him feel more urgency.”

“I’m not sure how much he told you,” said Allie. “But your story kind of—it ended up changing—“

“I’m glad you didn’t have any bullets,” he said. “As glad as I was that I did. I wasn’t built for war, or even for fighting the way my brother was. I was built for calm and quiet, which is I think how most people are built. But we are glad there are people like you.”

They rounded a corner in the hallway, and found themselves outside the dining hall, where Maria was greeting guests in an informal receiving line “Ah, Leslek,” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m happy you found these two,” she said. “They took good care of Marko, and I’m sure they’ll take good care of you. Ladies, some slivovitz might be just the thing.”

Two nights later Allie and Cass were with Maria again. MK and Perry were on hand as well, and Gloria, who was in her white judo robe. She’d already practiced hiza garuma, the knee wheel throw, on everyone except Maria; now she was doing situps in the corner.

The memorial service was over, and so was the round of seminars that had followed, as the faculty took full advantage of their eminent visitors. Students had listened to panels on everything from “Citizen Movements to Prevent Electoral Fraud in African Elections” to “Advanced Techniques in Meme Propagation: Instagram and Beyond.” Drivers had returned all of the mourners to the airport, including Leslek, who took with him the very few personal effects from his brother’s spare apartment—it was more like a monk’s cell, it turned out, when they finally went inside, with just a cot and a reading light and a few changes of clothes. The fact of his death seemed finally to be sinking in—Cass felt tired, and also a little relieved, which made her feel ashamed. She had also started to wonder what she was going to be doing now.

“Life question,” she said to Maria, and to the whole room “My job here at SGI was being Professor Vukovic’s assistant. With no professor to assist, what do I do?”

“I fear, for the time being, you are Professor Vukovic,” said Maria. “No one else knows those files—no one else knows quite how to help the people who are going to keep writing in. You don’t have to come up with answers like Marko for every campaigner on earth, but you do have to figure out how to make that archive accessible, useful. You have to figure out how to make his brain live on.”

Cass was quiet for a second. “I think I’ll let Gloria toss me around for a while,” she said.

“I can do a front leg sweep,” said Gloria.

“Okay, let me stand in front of the couch,” said Cass. “That way I won’t fall so far.”

“I’ve got a life question too,” said MK. “Actually me and Perry both. We had a long skype with Janice Two Rivers today—she’s very sorry she wasn’t at the memorial service, by the way, but Professor Vukovic’s death set things fully in motion. It was clear we could keep blocking train tracks with dying people for weeks to come, and the railroads—well, five percent of their traffic is oil, and they like the business, but that leaves 95 percent that’s getting blocked day after day.”

“Basically, she says they’re surrendering” said Perry. “Like, they’ve promised to open no new routes or terminals? And within five years to stop carrying oil? So, that’s good.”

“It’s really good, except that it means maybe we’re not really not needed any more,” said MK.

“Best news I’ve heard all night,” said Maria. “I mean, the oil trains, but also the unemployment. Because it makes what I was going to ask a lot easier.”

She paused, and looked around at all of them. “The faculty has been talking informally ever since news of Marko’s death, and especially since I told them about his final request. They agree we have got to honor it—we have to explore and work on this ‘end of humans’ stuff.”

“Does anyone really understand what it all means?” asked Allie.

“Mark—Professor Kinnison—knows the most, as usual,” said Maria. “And he agrees that it’s real. Whether it can be fought, who knows? But we all know that Marko for decades saw things the rest of us didn’t. So we want it fully explored—but we know we can’t really do it. Beyond the school, we’ve got a thousand things already underway—including the Dalai Lama walking across India, thanks to SGI.”

“What is the latest on all that?” said Cass, who was lying on the couch.

“While you guys were out in the canyon, the video that Perry stuck on those cellphones? It got seen by half of China, pretty much by accident,” said Maria. “Which—well, it’s good too. But it scares me. I’m pretty sure SGI is going to be a full-on target now. Which is one more reason we need—well, I think we need MK and Perry.”

“To do what?” said MK.

“To set up the Vukovic Center for a Fully Human Future,” said Maria. “Gifts have been coming in ever since news of Marko’s death got out. More than we expected, including some very big ones. There were people who appreciated his work who—well, I had no idea. Anyway, we’ve got $3 million.”

“But to do what with?” asked MK again.

“I don’t really know—that’s what you’re going to figure out, I hope.

Look, we could get some far more senior people, who already know this topic. But they’d also be stuck in the conventional ways of dealing with it. Which is not what Marko had in mind, I don’t think. I’m fairly sure that Cass will find some more ideas as she goes through his writing from the last year, and he’s talked to me a little, but basically we want a blank slate.”

“But we’re in San Francisco,” said MK.

“Oakland, actually?” said Perry.

“Yeah, that’s part of what makes you just right,” said Maria. “This stuff—biotech, robotics—it’s all over, but it’s mostly in Silicon Valley.

“But we’re—I mean, we really are kind of young,” said MK.

“Like everyone else in Silicon Valley,” said Maria. “You’ll fit right in.”

“Oof,” said Cass, landing on the sofa again.

“That’s called sasae ashi,” said Gloria. “Ankle block. We learned it in the dojo yesterday.”

“You’re very good at this,” said Cass.

“I know,” said Gloria. “Sensei said I was the best.”

“Don’t brag—judokas are supposed to be humble,” said Allie. “That’s why we bow. He said you were the best six-year-old. Also the only six-year-old, but still—very good.” She looked around at everyone else. “He’s going to let her take the test for her yellow belt next month.”

“You can think about it,” said Maria. “If you do it, you’ll have lots of help, all over the world. I imagine every one of those people who heard Allie read that letter has done a least a little googling these past few days.”

“I have a life question too,” said Allie. “Actually not a life question. More like a . . . girl question.”

“Perry, could you come get thrown for a while,” asked Cass. “This sounds interesting.”

“I could,” said Perry. “Is tickling allowed in judo,” he asked Gloria, and started to tickle her.

“I got a Facebook message today—actually, it probably came a while ago, since I don’t check Facebook very often,” said Allie. “Anyway, it was from someone who said he knew you guys. He used to go to school here. Matti something.”

“What did he want?” said MK carefully, looking at Cass.

“I think he wanted, like, a date,” said Allie. “He said he’d fly me out to San Francisco. Which, normally—but he was pretty cute.”

“How did he find you?” asked Cass, tightly.

“I think because of SGI. It was on my Facebook. But he was really interested in, like, libertarian stuff.”

“Is that all still on your page?” said Cass. “I thought—“

“Yeah,” said Allie. “The professor mostly talked me out of it, along with the stupid gun. But I never got around to changing my Facebook page. Anyway, he said you guys would vouch for him.”

“He wanted me to ‘vouch’ for him?” said Cass. “I’ll vouch for him. He’s a—a . . .”

“I believe ‘jerknozzle’ was the term you used most recently,” said MK. “And I gotta say, I think she’s right. I mean, he’s smart, but he’s not good.”

“Not that smart,” said Cass. “I mean, he gave chocolate to a dog.”

“Chocolate’s not good for dogs,” said Gloria. “I don’t even have a dog and I know that.”

“I guess I’m not writing him back,” said Allie. “I would kind of like to go to San Francisco.”

“You can come anyway,” said Perry. “Stay with us.”

“Actually,” said Cass, “I think maybe you shouldn’t blow him off.”

“What?” said MK. “You can’t stand him.”

“I—well, I can’t,” said Cass. “But the last time I was with him he was talking about the same stuff the professor was talking about. Redesigning humans. It’s his job, I think—getting people excited about this. Also, he’s a huge fan of that book you were making everyone read, the Ayn Rand.”

“So I should, like, spy on him?”

“I don’t know,” said Cass. “But maybe it’s a way in to that world. Because right now we don’t know much about it.”

“But if he’s a jerk—“ said Allie, and she suddenly looked tense.

“Not that kind of jerk, at least I don’t think,” said Cass. “And you do know judo now. And we’ll help you out.”

“We’ll talk more tomorrow,” said Maria. “It’s time for bed, at least for me. And for Gloria, I think.”

“I don’t want to go to bed,” sad Gloria.

“What about if I let you do that ankle lock thing on me?” said Maria.

“Two times,” said Gloria.