The climate crisis demands action, and fast. Everyone agrees on that. But when it comes to *how* we tackle it, the path quickly gets tangled. For years, we’ve heard about the promise of technologies that can suck carbon right out of the atmosphere, essentially hitting a “reset” button on our emissions. It sounds almost too good to be true, doesn’t it?
Indeed, this vision of large-scale carbon removal is becoming a lucrative business, with companies — especially the tech giants we all know and rely on — pouring significant resources into it. They’re looking for ways to offset their own substantial carbon footprints, and they’re willing to pay top dollar for technologies that promise to cancel out their emissions. If you’ve been following the climate tech space, you might have noticed one particular technology consistently dominating the headlines and the contract books: Bioenergy with Carbon Capture and Storage, or BECCS.
Currently, BECCS accounts for a staggering nearly 70% of announced carbon removal contracts. Microsoft, among others, is betting big on it. The core idea is elegantly simple: grow plants (like trees), burn them for energy, and then capture the carbon emissions released during combustion before they ever hit the atmosphere. On paper, it sounds like a win-win, turning renewable biomass into power while simultaneously removing carbon. But as with many things in climate tech, especially those that sound almost miraculous, the reality is far more complicated than the elegant theory suggests. And in some critical ways, BECCS echoes a troubling pattern we’ve seen with other climate “solutions” like carbon offsets and alternative fuels. Let’s pull back the curtain on why this favored technology might not be the silver bullet Big Tech hopes it is.
The Carbon Math That Doesn’t Quite Add Up
At the heart of BECCS’s appeal is its carbon accounting. The theory goes something like this: trees grow, they pull carbon dioxide from the atmosphere. When those trees are harvested and used for energy, the carbon they release upon burning is theoretically offset by the carbon they absorbed during their growth. Assuming those trees are replanted, the cycle is considered carbon neutral. Add carbon-scrubbing equipment to the facility, capture those emissions, and suddenly, the whole process becomes “carbon negative” — on net, removing CO2 from the atmosphere. Sounds like a genius solution, right? A clear win for the planet.
But here’s where the elegant theory starts to fray. That carbon math, while appealingly simple, leaves out a considerable chunk of the equation. It often ignores the emissions generated throughout the entire supply chain. Think about it: clearing land to plant biomass, the diesel burned by heavy machinery for harvesting, the fuel consumed by trucks and trains transporting that biomass to the energy facility, and the energy required for processing it. Each step, though seemingly small, adds up to a significant carbon cost. And if the projects require converting existing ecosystems into monoculture tree farms or energy crop fields, that land transformation itself can unleash stored carbon into the atmosphere, often negating any perceived benefits.
If these issues with carbon accounting sound familiar, it’s not a coincidence. My colleague James Temple, who has extensively reported on carbon offsets for years, has highlighted similar systemic flaws. His 2021 investigation with ProPublica’s Lisa Song, for instance, revealed how many carbon offset programs, far from being a solution, were actually contributing millions of tons of additional carbon dioxide to the atmosphere. The parallels are striking: in both cases, complex natural systems are reduced to overly simplistic equations, leading to scenarios where the “solution” inadvertently compounds the problem. It serves as a stark reminder that when it comes to climate solutions, the devil truly is in the details of the lifecycle analysis.
Entrenching the Problem, Not Just Capturing It
One of the supposed “benefits” of BECCS that makes it so attractive to corporations is its relative affordability compared to other direct air capture methods. A significant part of this cost saving comes from the fact that carbon capture technology can often be retrofitted onto existing biomass-burning facilities. This means less new construction, lower upfront capital expenditure, and a quicker path to deployment. It sounds like a pragmatic approach to scaling up carbon removal quickly, leveraging existing infrastructure to accelerate climate action. But is keeping legacy equipment running really a net positive in the long run?
The issue here extends beyond just carbon dioxide. Facilities that burn biomass or biofuels are rarely pristine operations. They don’t just spew CO2; they also emit a cocktail of other pollutants that are detrimental to human health and local ecosystems. We’re talking about particulate matter that can lodge deep in lungs, sulfur dioxide that contributes to acid rain and respiratory problems, and carbon monoxide, a dangerous invisible gas. While carbon capture equipment can trap *some* of these pollutants, like sulfur dioxide, it by no means captures them all. For communities living near these facilities, often already bearing a disproportionate burden of industrial pollution, BECCS might offer a tantalizing promise of carbon removal, but it often fails to address the immediate and pressing health impacts of air quality.
Essentially, by making these facilities economically viable for the foreseeable future, BECCS risks entrenching a polluting infrastructure rather than phasing it out. It prolongs the lifespan of operations that continue to harm local populations, trading one environmental problem (carbon emissions) for the continued perpetuation of others (local air pollution). It forces us to ask: are we truly solving the problem if our “solution” keeps communities in harm’s way? The allure of cheaper, quicker deployment can sometimes blind us to the broader, more complex consequences of our choices, especially when those consequences disproportionately affect vulnerable populations.
When “Waste” Becomes a Whole New Problem
The BECCS narrative often hinges on the idea of using “waste” biomass – leftover materials from forestry or agriculture that would otherwise decompose or be burned. This sounds incredibly efficient, a way to derive energy and remove carbon from something that would otherwise be considered useless. It’s a powerful and persuasive argument for its sustainability. However, the assumption that this biomass is truly “waste” and has no other valuable purpose is a critical weak point in the BECCS logic, and it’s one that deserves a much closer look.
The truth is, biomass is far from a one-trick pony. The material that BECCS aims to burn for energy has a surprising range of alternative uses, many of which are themselves environmentally beneficial and keep carbon out of the atmosphere for longer. Imagine using wood waste to create durable building materials, extending its carbon-storing potential for decades. Or turning agricultural residues into bioplastics, reducing our reliance on fossil fuels. Biomass can even be processed into biochar or other soil additives that enhance nutrient cycles, improve soil health, and sequester carbon in the ground. So, the binary choice presented — BECCS or nothing — is fundamentally flawed. There are often more sustainable, less emission-intensive pathways for these materials that don’t involve burning them.
Perhaps even more concerning is a phenomenon we’ve observed time and again in economics: when you create a valuable market for something previously considered “waste,” you inherently create an incentive to produce more of it. With BECCS, this could lead to perverse outcomes. Experts are rightly worried that the demand for biomass could encourage companies to trim more trees, clear more forests, or expand agricultural monocultures beyond what’s ecologically sustainable, all to feed the insatiable appetite of BECCS facilities. What starts as an intention to use “waste” can quickly morph into the incentivization of unsustainable land use practices and deforestation, essentially undermining the very climate goals BECCS aims to achieve.
This dynamic feels eerily familiar to conversations around sustainable aviation fuels (SAFs). These alternative jet fuels, lauded for their potential to decarbonize air travel, can be made from a wide array of materials, including crop waste or used cooking oil. But as demand has skyrocketed, we’ve seen market distortions, including reports of fraud where new vegetable oil is disguised as used cooking oil to capitalize on subsidies. The lesson is clear: when “green” solutions create massive demand for resources, the line between sustainable sourcing and unsustainable exploitation, or even outright deception, can become dangerously blurred. The “waste” argument, while appealing, needs rigorous scrutiny and robust safeguards to prevent unintended and potentially catastrophic environmental consequences.
Beyond the Hype: A Call for Clarity and Real Solutions
It’s clear that BECCS, like many emerging climate technologies, isn’t the simple, elegant solution it’s often made out to be. While the theoretical promise of carbon negativity is compelling, the practical implementation is riddled with complexities – from questionable carbon accounting and the perpetuation of local pollution to the dangerous incentivization of unsustainable biomass production. It reminds us that climate solutions aren’t just about technology; they’re about economics, ethics, and rigorous, transparent accounting.
The allure of a technological fix that allows us to continue business as usual, or simply offset our way out of the crisis, is strong. But as my colleague James Temple often reminds me, sometimes the most profound truth in climate action is also the simplest: “Just cut emissions and stop messing around.” While innovation in carbon removal certainly has a role to play in the long term, we cannot afford to let the promise of future technologies distract us from the urgent, immediate, and often less glamorous work of drastically reducing our fossil fuel consumption today. Real climate leadership means facing these complexities head-on, prioritizing direct emissions reduction, and ensuring that any technological solution truly solves problems without creating a host of new ones. Our planet, and future generations, deserve nothing less than that honest assessment and unwavering commitment.
