A battery storage facility sits in front of wind turbines near Palm Springs, California. States and utilities are building battery farms but many communities oppose them.
(Photo by Mario Tama/Getty Images)
SNOQUALMIE, Wash. — In the race to meet the nation’s growing power demands, states and utilities are rapidly building new “battery farms” that can store energy for when customers need it most. But as the facilities grow, so too does community opposition.
The systems store banks of batteries in buildings or shipping containers. While they can take many forms, developers are increasingly building large, multi-acre projects designed to meet the needs of local utilities.
The electricity stored by such systems nationwide has grown tenfold since 2022, and it’s projected to double again by the end of 2028. State lawmakers and renewable energy advocates say battery storage is urgently needed to stabilize the grid and support the transition to clean power.
But in some communities, residents are wary of proposals to build industrial battery systems in their neighborhoods, noting that battery fires can produce toxic smoke and are difficult to extinguish. As the backlash has grown, nearly 200 communities have passed or proposed moratoriums to block battery farms from being built near them.
Backers say modern systems are designed to be much safer than previous versions, with data showing that fire risk has dropped significantly. But some industry leaders fear the perception of danger — along with a rising tide of community activism stirred by the buildout of data centers — could threaten an industry that’s becoming integral to the nation’s energy future.
‘Meteoric growth’
Most energy storage on the U.S. grid takes the form of battery energy storage systems, commonly known as BESS. Such facilities host banks of batteries, typically lithium-ion — a technology that has become more capable and cost-effective with the development of electric vehicles.
At present, battery storage capacity nationwide exceeds 50 gigawatts, up from just 5 gigawatts at the beginning of 2022. Another 54 gigawatts is slated to come online in the next two and a half years. That projected total of more than 100 gigawatts would be enough to power roughly 75 million homes, although battery farms are designed to provide electricity for one to four hours, as opposed to the more continuous supply of conventional power plants.
“The meteoric growth is continuing,” said Noah Roberts, executive director of the U.S. Energy Storage Coalition, an industry group. “For state policymakers who are focused on the energy transition and decarbonizing the grid, (battery) storage is essential.”
Policymakers and energy planners have increasingly pushed for battery farms as more renewable energy sources have come online. Solar farms, for instance, can produce massive amounts of cheap electricity during the afternoon hours — but peak demand is in the evening, when people get home from work and turn on household appliances.
With batteries on the grid, that surplus solar energy can be stored and saved for when it’s needed, instead of firing up more costly “peaker” gas plants to meet evening demand.
Industry leaders say battery systems can also improve reliability and affordability, even in states without clean energy goals. They note that Texas and California are home to a majority of the battery projects on the grid so far. While typically on opposite ends of the political spectrum, both states produce large amounts of wind and solar energy, while facing heavy power demands that have at times required energy conservation measures and put the grid at risk of blackouts. Battery systems, backers say, have already stabilized their grids considerably.
Adding to the appeal of battery farms is the fact that they can be put in place quickly, in a matter of months, compared with much longer timelines for other energy projects.
“As we’re dealing with a power supply crisis, energy storage is the obvious solution for adding capacity and getting more out of the grid that we’ve already paid for,” Roberts said.
State policies have been a driver of the industry’s growth. Thirteen states have enacted targets requiring their utilities to deploy certain amounts of energy storage by specific dates.
In Maryland, Democratic Del. Lorig Charkoudian authored a law in 2025 directing state regulators to issue bids for projects totaling 1,600 megawatts of energy storage.
“It’s basically a no-regret path,” Charkoudian said in an interview earlier this year. “Over time once we bring more renewables on, they will be that much more valuable because there’s battery storage.”
Charkoudian noted that the Trump administration has stalled permitting for offshore wind and other renewable projects, while phasing out clean energy tax credits. The federal push against those forms of energy has made battery farms a more attractive option, as they’ve met with less resistance and still qualify for a 30% tax credit.
Community concerns
For all of the potential that battery farms offer the grid, some communities are not eager to host them. Much of the opposition centers around the risk for out-of-control fires and toxic smoke.
Most prominently, the Moss Landing Power Plant in Monterey County, California, caught fire in early 2025, burned for several days and released 55,000 pounds of toxic metals into nearby wetlands.
Lithium-ion batteries, when ignited, can trigger a reaction known as thermal runaway that is nearly impossible to extinguish. Across the country, community activists have been alarmed to see battery farms proposed near schools, playgrounds and senior care facilities.
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“They’re making us collateral damage,” said Phoenix Artemisia, an activist in Watsonville, California, who has helped lead efforts to oppose a proposed battery storage facility there. “We have 12 schools within two miles of us here, but these out-of-state developers are telling us what we’re going to do in our backyard.”
The Watsonville project has stirred up significant community opposition, Artemisia said, prompting the developer to seek approval from state regulators in order to bypass local officials.
Industry leaders say the Moss Landing facility was built using an older design, prior to the issuance of safety standards from the National Fire Protection Association that cover most systems on the grid today. Newer projects use an updated battery chemistry that burns at lower temperatures, and store the batteries in isolated, modular containers so that fires don’t spread to nearby units.
As a result, battery fires have become much more rare and far less devastating. Earlier this month, the Electric Power Research Institute, an independent nonprofit, published an analysis of battery system failures dating back to 2011.
The report found that failures (defined as large thermal events such as arc flashes, fires or explosions) have declined 97% in the U.S. since 2018, when adjusted for the amount of battery power on the grid. The incidents that have happened in new systems have largely remained small and contained, said Lakshmi Srinivasan, who authored the analysis.
“Specific design choices have really reduced not only the likelihood of a failure, but the impact of a failure if it happens,” she told Stateline.
Srinivasan said the risk profile of battery farms is similar to that of electrical transformers, components of the electrical grid that already exist in many communities.
But some communities feel a slim chance of disaster is still too high. Residents in Snoqualmie, Washington, have voiced opposition to a proposed battery project just outside city limits, prompting the city and several neighboring communities to enact moratoriums on such facilities.
“We need to think more carefully about what the worst-case scenario is, not just what’s typical,” said Dan Murphy, a council member in the city of Snoqualmie. “The science says (battery farms) are getting safer, but we’re still early.”
Amid the local backlash, the developer, Jupiter Power, has indicated that it will pursue approval from state-level energy siting regulators, removing the project from King County jurisdiction.
Murphy said his community supports clean energy, but objected to the site location near homes, a playground, a waterway and a critical evacuation route. He said Jupiter Power kept locals in the dark until they thought the project was a done deal.
“We are a very reserved and polite community,” he said. “To see the outcry and the animation and the mobilization, it’s really struck a nerve with our residents.”
In a document responding to community concerns, Jupiter Power noted that battery farms must be built near substations, which are located in close proximity to the communities they serve. That reality, the company said, makes it unrealistic for local officials to demand that battery systems keep their distance from populated areas. In King County, the company found, all 157 substations that are suitable for a battery project are located within a quarter-mile of schools, daycares, hospitals, natural areas or other sensitive sites.
Jupiter Power did not grant an interview request, but referred questions to Clean and Prosperous, a Washington-based nonprofit focused on reducing emissions.
“For any battery storage project there will inherently already be energy infrastructure nearby,” said Kelsey Nyland, communications director with Clean and Prosperous. “It often feels like we expect clean energy projects to be perfect in a way that we don’t expect from fossil fuel projects.”
Nyland noted that Washington state ranks dead last in the nation for clean energy growth, despite its ambitious climate goals. Battery storage, she said, can help population centers in western Washington harness surplus wind and solar power from rural eastern Washington.
She added that Washington has only one operational battery storage facility, making it difficult to alleviate local’s concerns by touring a nearby site.
Similar disputes have played out in dozens of communities across the country, and many have passed temporary measures banning the construction of battery storage facilities.
Earlier this month, a pair of former economic officials from the Biden administration wrote in The Washington Post that battery farms had been caught in a case of “mistaken identity” amid the nationwide backlash to data centers, which have stirred up similar feelings about industrial siting and environmental risks. But while data centers increase pressure on the grid, battery farms reduce it, they wrote, making the “conflation” an expensive mistake.
Some local activists have asked for battery farms to be sited in remote areas, where they would pose fewer risks. But industry leaders say they’re simply following the incentives set forth by utilities, which prioritize projects that can connect to the grid near population centers.
“If you have a source of power right where the power’s being consumed, the more efficient your system’s going to be,” Malaquias Encarnacion, managing director with Carina Energy, a development services firm that works on battery storage projects.
Carina Energy has tracked 175 battery farm moratoriums enacted or proposed by communities across the country. In some cases, Encarnacion said, those actions have been temporary measures enacted by local governments to give themselves time to learn about the issue.
“If I didn’t know anything about it, I would be nervous as well,” he said, encouraging developers to engage with communities early to alleviate those concerns.
Stateline reporter Alex Brown can be reached at abrown@stateline.org.
This article was originally published by Stateline and is republished by MetroSTL under a Creative Commons license. The reporting is the outlet’s; please support them.