Solar power gains unlikely allies across the political spectrum

From Shade to Sunshine

Donald Trump has called solar panels "THE SCAM OF THE CENTURY." Yet some of his closest advisors are quietly pushing the opposite message—that solar energy is essential to American economic strength.

Katie Miller, a podcaster married to Trump's domestic policy chief Stephen Miller, has become a vocal solar advocate. She's joined by former House speaker Newt Gingrich, strategist Kellyanne Conway, and GOP pollster Tony Fabrizio. According to reporting in The Washington Post, their pitch focuses on practical ground: data centers need enormous amounts of electricity, businesses are watching their power bills climb, and solar reduces both costs and dependence on foreign energy sources.

This creates an odd tension. The White House publicly dismisses solar technology while influential Trump allies promote it behind the scenes. The gap likely reflects lobbying pressure from energy companies and data center operators who've done the math—renewable power is becoming cheaper than the alternatives, regardless of ideology.

What's revealing here is that solar has crossed a threshold. It's no longer a question of environmental values or climate beliefs. When solar makes financial sense to a conservative strategist worried about American competitiveness, it suggests the technology has matured past the point where it can be dismissed as fringe. The energy transition isn't waiting for political consensus; it's advancing because the economics work.

Taxi!

Every winter in Oregon, northern red-legged frogs face a four-lane gauntlet. Highway 30 cuts directly between their winter habitat and their breeding grounds, and crossing it means almost certain death under truck tires.

For years, a volunteer group called the Harborton Frog Shuttle has gathered on rainy nights—students, biologists, retirees—wearing reflective vests and carrying buckets. They catch the frogs attempting to cross, carry them safely to the other side, and release them. It's labor-intensive, weather-dependent, and temporary.

But the frogs have started learning to avoid the volunteers, which sounds like progress until you realize it means they're trying to cross the highway on their own instead. So the Oregon Wildlife Foundation is designing something permanent: a wildlife crossing engineered specifically for frogs, built into the landscape rather than relying on human intervention.

"It would be a shame to lose this species because we don't do something we're capable of," said Tim Greseth, the foundation's director. That sentence captures something important about how we're learning to coexist with other species—not through grand gestures, but through infrastructure that acknowledges both their needs and our responsibility. A frog tunnel might seem small, but it represents a shift from temporary rescue to lasting design.