In October, 2022, The Globe and Mail’s Jeffrey Jones embarked on a road trip along Highway 3 in Alberta, where a multibillion-dollar renewables boom was transforming the landscape. With renewables now stalled or in retreat in the province, he travelled to Texas to chronicle how the state’s deregulated power market has become a mecca for developers of wind and solar power, and now battery storage.

Ranell Scott is steward of the West Texas ranch land her family has owned since 1900. It’s a role she takes seriously. To do it, Ms. Scott has had to rethink how to derive a living from the spread of rolling plains and mesquite flats in Knox County, about a three-hour drive west from Dallas.

Besides cattle ranching, Ms. Scott runs a rustic guesthouse for game-hunting parties, a venue for weddings and Airbnb rentals. Her operation offers guests opportunities to chow down on steaks prepared over an open flame and take in a landscape across which the views seem endless.

But over the past decade, those vistas have changed. Sticking up from them are massive wind turbines, some on her land, others on properties beyond. Knox is one of numerous counties across Texas playing host to an unprecedented boom in renewable energy. That investment rush has given the oil-producing state the most installed renewables capacity in the United States, more than double that of early-adopter California.

For Ms. Scott, the decision to agree to the towers on her Ranger Creek Ranch didn’t come easy.

“There are some pros and cons on it. I’m so sentimental with my land. To have somebody come in, and to have more people on our property as a family – I really had to think a lot about that,” Ms. Scott said on a bright September morning as turbine blades from the Griffin Trail Wind Farm turned in the distance. One drawback has been occasional complaints from newlyweds about the towers in their wedding photos.

“Then, you think: You take away some of your privacy, some of your sentimental value, and it’s diversification for us. It’s a commodity that we can benefit from off of our land.”

Knox County, home to just 3,300 people, is host to four industrial-scale wind farms that take advantage of a steady southerly breeze that tends to kick up in the early evening. Griffin Trail, which is owned by Quebec-based Innergex Renewable Energy Inc., comprises 80 turbines feeding up to 225 megawatts, enough to power about 135,000 homes, to the state’s electricity grid. The project has been in operation since 2021.

As in many parts of Texas, its towers have transformed the countryside in a rush to meet surging power demand from the state’s growing population, along with an influx of electricity-thirsty data centres and artificial intelligence computing. On some stretches of West Texas highway, turbines 89 metres and taller are visible on flatlands and craggy hills in every direction, sometimes interspersed with oil pumpjacks.

How much did contributing to the fight against climate change factor into Ms. Scott’s decision to allow the wind industry onto the ranch? “Not at all,” she said.

She and many of her neighbours insist they are not climate activists. For them, renewable energy is not a route to decarbonizing Texas’s economy, but an opportunity to broaden their sources of income through lease contracts with developers.

Texas is famously a dyed-in-the-wool red state that has long touted its independence and position as a global energy powerhouse. Its Permian Basin is among the world’s top prospects for oil producers seeking shale riches. It is among Republican-led jurisdictions that have sought to penalize financial companies that want to introduce environmental, social and governance (ESG) factors to state business.

Yet Texas’s deregulated power market is a mecca for wind and solar power and, lately, battery storage, making it a grand stage for the transition to low-carbon energy. In the process, it has become one of the largest beneficiaries of green stimulus money made available under President Joe Biden’s Inflation Reduction Act, racking up US$8-billion in clean-energy investments since the act was passed, according to E2, an environmental alliance of U.S. business leaders.

Alberta, a similarly pro-oil and conservative-minded jurisdiction, had been undergoing its own renewables boom, with developers attracted by ample sunshine, wind and a welcoming free market. But last year, activity dried up when Premier Danielle Smith’s United Conservative Party government intervened with a seven-month moratorium on new wind and solar applications, then imposed a series of restrictions on the industry. Those are not yet finalized.

Ms. Smith argued the moves were necessary to ensure the integrity of the power grid, protect arable land for agriculture and maintain what her government calls “pristine viewscapes.” She insisted that regulators had asked for the freeze, though the environmental news outlet The Narwhal later obtained internal documents showing the head of the province’s electric system operator was uncomfortable with the government’s moratorium, fearing a flight of capital.

Industry leaders were blindsided. The restrictions, they argue, have severely harmed Alberta’s reputation as a secure place to invest. Developers have cancelled or suspended projects, and some said they would shift their efforts to other markets.

So why is Texas embracing green energy? Since 2011, wind power capacity in the state has quadrupled to nearly 40,000 megawatts, or nearly 29 per cent of total available generation, according to the Electric Reliability Council of Texas, known as ERCOT. That capacity could increase by more than 5 per cent in the next year, based on planned and potential projects, it said.

The growth in solar is even more dramatic. With more than US$28-billion invested, solar has surged from 70 MW in 2011 to 26,814 MW today. In 12 months, that could jump by another 56 per cent, based on planned projects with final security in place as well as proposed developments.

Battery storage is also taking off, in the forms of stand-alone projects and add-ons to wind and solar. Capacity could more than double in the next year to more than 19,000 MW. In September, France’s TotalEnergies SE started up two solar projects in southeast Texas, both with integrated storage, with combined capacity of 1.2 gigawatts.

It has not all been smooth sailing, and not every Texan is on board. In February, 2021, Winter Storm Uri unleashed frigid temperatures, snow and freezing rain on the southern state, causing widespread power outages and forcing the economy to a near standstill.

Initially, renewable-energy opponents seized on the crisis to blame wind and solar generation. During the blackouts, Republican Governor Greg Abbott said in a Fox News interview that renewables, which made up more than 10 per cent of generation, “thrust Texas into a situation where it was lacking power on a statewide basis.”

However, reviews showed the network collapsed under a combination of events, including surging demand and outages at power plants that were not designed to withstand winter conditions – natural gas and coal stations among them. In addition, Texas does not draw on electricity connections to other states, making it a virtual island in the U.S. power system.

This past summer, renewables proved their mettle. As temperatures soared well into the triple digits Fahrenheit for weeks at a time, electricity demand in Texas reached record levels as residents and businesses cranked up air conditioners. The bright sunshine allowed solar generation to hit records of nearly 21,000 MW in August, about a quarter of peak daytime demand, according to energy data provider Grid Status.

Despite his bluster in 2021, Governor Abbott has placed no limits on renewables. In fact, his government offers incentives to developers that allow them to contribute directly to local infrastructure in lieu of taxes for periods of up to 10 years. Andrew Mahaleris, the Governor’s press secretary, said this is part of an all-of-the-above energy strategy that guards against “harsh job-killing restrictions and unnecessary regulations.”

The state will keep fostering investments in a wide range of generation sources, including rapidly dispatchable power from natural gas plants, he said in a statement.

In Knox County, the wind industry’s payments account for about 50 per cent of the annual budget, and have halved residents’ tax bills since before wind farms were introduced eight years ago, County Judge Stan Wojcik said in his office in Benjamin, Tex., the county seat.

At the time, the local government had US$500,000 in reserves. Today, with about 300 turbines in operation, that kitty has grown to US$6-million. Now, developers are planning another wind farm straddling Knox’s southern county line.

The industry’s expansion has given citizens improved public resources, buildings and services without tax hikes, said Judge Wojcik, whose role is judicial and administrative. Yes, some locals have pushed back, but not a lot, he said. They tend to be landowners who are not getting lease payments from the industry.

“When I look out the window and I see those lights flashing at night on those towers, it takes away from the beautiful stars and that you can see out here,” he said. “But if it wasn’t for that, there could be a lot of financial trouble because our tax rate would be so high. Because of inflation every year, everything goes up.”

In Benjamin, like most cities and towns across Texas, high school football takes centre stage on Friday nights. Locals watch their beloved Benjamin Mustangs six-man team run plays on a brand new field with state-of-the-art artificial turf that was funded by a school-district bond issue backed by the wind industry’s payments. From the main road, you would be able to get a clear view of that gridiron, if not for a new gymnasium under construction right next door.

Bouncing along gravel roads in a truck among the Griffin Trail’s towers just east of Benjamin, Marcus Correale points out the ones he’s responsible for, and, in the distance, those operated by other companies. It’s difficult to get a perspective of their immensity until you are at the foot of one when the blades are spinning. As site manager, he has been involved with the project from the time of construction. Growth in the industry in the region has helped provide him the skills and know-how to do it.

In 2014, Mr. Correale graduated with a Bachelor of Science degree in wind energy from Texas Tech University in Lubbock, about two hours west. The school had begun offering the course a few years earlier to serve the industry’s expansion. Specialized education afforded him the ability to live and raise his family in Knox County, where his wife grew up. And like many of his neighbours, climate concerns are not his top motivation.

“I know we have to have oil and gas, like there’s no way of removing that because the sun doesn’t always shine and the wind doesn’t always blow,” he said. But, Mr. Correale said, renewables provide a good offset to fossil-fuel energy, especially in the summer heat.

In Alberta, companies shelved 33 projects they had planned before the government-imposed freeze, the Pembina Institute reported in August, citing data from the Alberta Electric System Operator’s development queue. Another 20, which companies had hoped would be grandfathered under previous rules, have also been withdrawn, the environmental think tank said. Together they could have generated up to 8,600 MW, which the institute said would be enough to power almost every Alberta home.

According to Business Renewables Centre Canada, a Pembina-affiliated agency that tracks wind and solar energy deals, just one power purchase agreement – a corporation that signed up for long-term green energy – had been concluded through August of this year, representing 52 MW. That compares with seven for wind and two solar power deals in 2023, for a total of 1,030 MW.

In May, TransAlta Corp. pulled the plug on a 300 MW wind farm owing to its location in a region the government designated as an exclusion zone, and put three others on hold.

Rural residents make up much of the base of Ms. Smith’s UCP supporters, and many of them have been vocal in their opposition to renewable energy, standing firmly behind what she calls an “agriculture-first” approach to the industry. However, officials in Cardston County, where the cancelled wind farm was planned, lamented that the loss of the expected revenue meant the county could no longer afford a new water treatment plant and other projects.

The government disputes Pembina’s findings. The minister in charge, Nathan Neudorf, said the Alberta Utility Commission’s data tell a different story, with approvals for 20 renewable projects this year, more than in 2023 or in 2022. In a statement, he contended that Alberta’s renewables industry is “alive and well,” and investors are well aware of reforms being developed to protect the Alberta grid, and new rules for wind and solar, to be rolled out before year-end.

However, many wind and solar developers remain “very, very concerned” with the risks of changes to the electricity and transmission markets, said Vittoria Bellissimo, chief executive officer of the Canadian Renewable Energy Association. That includes companies that had planned new investments but are not committing the capital, as well as those with projects now in operation, she said.

So what’s the difference between Alberta and Texas? Both jurisdictions enjoy enough sunshine and wind to support utility-scale projects. Both markets allow generators to sell directly into the grid as well as sign up corporate buyers under power purchase agreements. Both have active and growing storage markets.

But unlike Texas, Alberta has short winter days with little wind, and that can limit generation during cold snaps. Supporters point out, though, renewables are never relied upon for foundational generation, known as baseload power. Natural-gas-fired electricity has that role, and is expected to make up about 60 per cent of Alberta’s generation capacity in 2025 after more than 2,000 MW of gas power was added this year.

Another reason Texas has gone full bore on renewables while Alberta pumped the brakes, however, could be explained by how oil and gas feeds the public purse, said Kristen van de Biezenbos, a professor at California Western School of Law in San Diego who lectures on U.S. and Canadian electricity policy.

In Alberta, the oil industry signs lease agreements with landowners, but it pays royalties to the government on the vast majority of land, and that has a direct impact on provincial revenue. If natural gas fuels generating plants across the province, that means steady demand for it. Unlike the handling of renewables, the government has placed no new restrictions on oil and gas development.

In Texas, the oil industry makes its agreements on royalty payments and leases directly with landowners, not the state, as do developers of wind and solar projects. This helps explain why renewables are so much more mature and ingrained in the state economy, Prof. van de Biezenbos said.

“There are taxes that go to the state and to the federal government. But most of the money, the direct money from the royalties, is not going to the state of Texas,” she said. “You don’t have the same reliance, true reliance on fossil fuel revenues in Texas that you do in Alberta – the only change is going to be who’s making money from what.”

Innergex, which runs two other renewable projects in Texas besides Griffin Trail, has never considered Alberta a secure place to invest, owing to what appears to be a lack of long-term political support for green energy and strong lobbying by the oil industry, said Michel Letellier, the Montreal-based company’s CEO. Innergex has operations elsewhere in Canada and the U.S., as well as France and Chile.

“For us, it’s not a level playing field in Alberta. We understand all the dynamics behind oil and gas, and Alberta residents need those economics – we understand that completely,” he said, “But we understand also that if we’d like to compete in Alberta, it’s always leaning toward a different policy that, in our way, we are not aligned with.”

The company is a relatively new entrant into the Texas market, having acquired its holdings in 2018, with the $1.1-billion acquisition of Vancouver-based Alterra Power Corp. The volatility of the Texas electricity market – where generators make money from the ups and downs of hourly prices – meant a steep learning curve, Mr. Letellier said.

The benefits include a quick turnaround for planning and building projects compared with other jurisdictions, he said. The company also takes advantage of the investment and production tax credits available under the Inflation Reduction Act. “It’s probably the cheapest place you can build a facility in North America,” he said.

Despite that, it is unlikely Innergex will acquire or build more in Texas. In fact, the company struck a deal to sell minority interests in holdings to Irradiant Partners LP for US$188-million in June.

Innergex prefers regions that offer clear environmental or social benefits with the cash flow it generates, he said, such as a focus on the fight to limit climate change or form partnerships with Indigenous communities.

In Swisher County, 115 kilometres north of Lubbock, Tex., the massive Hornet solar project is taking shape on 15.5 square kilometres of tabletop-flat land. It is a US$700-million development that, when completed in the coming months, will comprise 1.3 million photovoltaic panels that generate 600 MW of power, making it one of the largest solar farms in the U.S.

On a sweltering afternoon, about 450 workers were toiling on site – running cable, digging trenches, driving piles into the dry land and fixing panels into place. Besides the requisite hard hats, work gloves and safety glasses, some wore snake gaiters to guard against the risk of a bite from a rattler.

Dallas-based Vesper Energy is developing the project, and it does not plan to stop there. When Hornet starts operations, the company aims to construct a second phase across the road, called Nazareth. To build Hornet, Vesper struck agreements with five landowners, who each see the economic benefits for land that had otherwise not been producing crops, said Craig Carson, Vesper’s chairman and a veteran of renewable energy projects.

Mr. Carson said his company is focused on decarbonization as well as generating profit, even if climate change may not be a priority for owners whose land it leases. And the high rates of landowner acceptance are not normally part of the national conversation, he said.

“Sometimes that gets politicized and overblown during a legislative session, but in general, they’re trying to go in the right direction – you know, grid integrity and making sure there’s sufficient capacity to supply the needs,” he said during a road trip to the project.

Lobby groups such as the Texas Solar Power Association are active in making sure the industry’s message gets across in the state capital and with regulators to protect current and future operations, he said. “They’ve done a good job minimizing the finger pointing.”

Unlike the Griffin Trail wind project, which plays a merchant role in the market, Hornet is backed by power purchase agreements with a number of large companies, including drug maker Pfizer Inc., Zoetis Inc. and Brunswick Corp., the boat builder. “Solar is the lowest cost of energy available right now, especially in Texas with all this production capacity and efficiency. But it also meets their ESG goals, having a certain amount of their power coming from renewables,” Mr. Carson said.

The biggest risk is not competition from rival energy sources, but trade policy, he said. Talk at the federal level of imposing hefty new tariffs on inputs from China puts future renewables projects at risk. Nazareth has a power purchase agreement guaranteeing an electricity price, so if costs increase by 25 or 50 per cent, development will be rendered uneconomic.

Two years ago, Stephen Bisbee retired from the Dallas Fire-Rescue Department and moved back to Knox County, which his family called home for the past century. Sitting In Benjamin’s tiny fire hall, he said he sees no competition between the oil and gas sector, which has long fuelled the state economy, and renewables.

“Oil has been a traditional job creator out here,” he said, referring to all the services involved – drillers, companies that maintain well sites, build roads and pipelines, right up to refining and retailing gasoline. But wind energy also provides spinoff employment and tax gains that have been beneficial to communities across the state, including his.

Donald Trump is no fan of wind power – he frequently disparages it, claiming, inexplicably, that the noise from turbines causes cancer. But two members of Mr. Bisbee’s fire brigade recently shifted their careers into wind energy from oil. That doesn’t suggest the politics of Texas are shifting to the left, he said.

“This is a red state. This is probably a red county. There may be a few Democrats, but most are going to vote Trump, and I’ll be honest, I probably will too, but for different reasons,” Mr. Bisbee said. “But for absolute economics, it’s been an absolute boon.”