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For most of the modern era, energy security meant one thing: oil. Oil markets were where economic shocks originated. Wars, embargoes, hurricanes, shipping disruptions, and cartel decisions translated directly into inflation, recessions, and political instability. Governments built strategic reserves, investors tracked spare capacity, and businesses learned to watch the Middle East because that is where systemic risk lived. That mental model is now outdated. Today, the most important energy market in the global economy is no longer oil. It is the power grid. Electricity has quietly become the system that determines whether economies can grow, whether industries can expand, whether artificial intelligence can scale, and whether households face stability or volatility in their basic cost of living. Yet unlike oil markets — which spent decades building buffers, reserves, and response mechanisms — the grid was never designed to absorb this role. The grid is becoming the new oil market, but without the institutional architecture that oil markets built after half a century of shocks. From Oil Shocks to Grid Shocks Oil markets earned their reputation because they were exposed to sudden disruption. A conflict in the Middle East or a storm in the Gulf of Mexico could move global prices overnight. Entire business cycles were shaped by how quickly supply could respond. Power systems were supposed to be different: regulated, local, engineered for reliability rather than volatility. That distinction no longer holds. In the United States alone, power interruptions now cost the economy an estimated $70 to $150 billion per year in lost productivity, spoiled goods, damaged equipment, and disrupted services, according to Department of Energy and utility sector analyses. A single major blackout can generate billions in economic losses within hours. In Texas, the 2021 winter storm caused more than $100 billion in estimated economic damage, widespread industrial shutdowns, and household electricity bills that in some cases increased by several thousand dollars. In California, rolling outages during heat waves have forced manufacturing curtailments, data center load shedding, emergency imports at elevated prices, and multi-billion-dollar reliability investments. These are no longer isolated utility events. They are macroeconomic shocks, indistinguishable in impact from the oil crises of previous decades. The Myth of Grid Abundance Just as oil markets once relied on theoretical spare capacity, the modern grid now suffers from its own version of abundance illusion. On paper, the United States has thousands of gigawatts of planned generation in interconnection queues. Policymakers point to renewable pipelines, battery deployments, and capacity targets as evidence that supply is coming. In practice, much of this capacity is stranded by: transmission constraints; interconnection delays; supply chain bottlenecks; labor shortages; and grid integration limits. According to federal and regional grid data, the average time for new generation to move from proposal to operation now exceeds five to seven years, and in some regions more than a decade. National Renewable Energy Laboratory analysis suggests that historically only about 30 percent of projects in interconnection queues ever reach commercial operation. This mirrors oil markets perfectly. Barrels can exist without pipelines or refineries. Megawatts can exist without wires or substations. Installed capacity is not the same as deliverable energy. The grid now exhibits the same structural flaw oil markets once did: abundance on paper, scarcity in practice — and increasingly, scarcity of response speed. Speed Is Now the Scarce Resource In oil markets, the central question was always speed: how fast supply could respond when disruption hit. The grid now faces the same problem — but with higher stakes. Electricity demand is rising faster than infrastructure can adapt: data centers can be built in months; transmission lines take a decade; electric vehicles scale quickly; grid reinforcement does not; extreme weather arrives instantly; and resilience investments take years. The system is structurally slow in a world that is accelerating. In economic terms, the grid is becoming inelastic. Demand can surge rapidly. Supply cannot. That is the definition of a volatile market. Baseload vs. Reserves: Why Grid Reliability Is Now a Flexibility Problem This structural fragility becomes most visible when we look at how the grid actually maintains reliability. Baseload is often described as the stable foundation of the power system — the minimum, around-the-clock electricity demand that must be served at a steady rate. But modern grid reliability is no longer defined by the ability to meet the minimum. It is defined by the ability to manage constant movement around that minimum in real time. That is where operating reserves come in. Spinning reserves are the grid’s first shock absorber: generation capacity that is already synchronized to the system and can ramp quickly when something unexpected happens. In practice, spinning reserves are paired with non-spinning and supplemental reserves that can be brought online within minutes to restore balance after a unit trips, a transmission line fails, or a demand forecast is wrong. Under normal conditions, U.S. grid operators maintain operating reserves according to formal reliability rules. California’s system operator, for example, requires contingency reserves equal to roughly six percent of load, split between spinning and non-spinning resources. PJM, which serves more than 65 million people across 13 states, maintains a layered reserve structure designed to manage both sudden generator outages and short-term forecast errors. ERCOT in Texas operates with its own reserve products, including fast-responding services specifically designed to stabilize frequency during extreme conditions. The problem is not that these reserve frameworks do not exist. The problem is that the stress placed on them has fundamentally changed. Historically, operating reserves were designed to cover single-event disruptions — a large power plant tripping offline or a transmission constraint. Today, reserves are increasingly asked to absorb systemic volatility: sharper daily demand swings, larger forecasting errors driven by weather, tighter fuel supply coordination between gas and power markets, and growing concentration of load from data centers and electrification. This is why “do we have enough spinning reserves?” is now the wrong question. In most regions, operators can meet reserve requirements during routine conditions. The more important question is whether the system has enough headroom — in generation, fuel deliverability, and transmission — to procure and sustain those reserves during peak stress. That headroom is shrinking. NERC has repeatedly warned that planning reserve margins are tightening across multiple regions as demand growth outpaces reliable capacity additions. In PJM and MISO, projected reserve margins later this decade fall to levels that leave little buffer during extreme weather events. In ERCOT, winter reliability remains highly sensitive to fuel availability and weather-driven outages despite post-2021 reforms. In CAISO, peak summer reliability increasingly depends on imports that may not be available during regional heat waves. Operating reserves are designed to manage minutes-to-hours disruptions, not multi-day system stress. A grid can be fully compliant with reserve rules and still fail a real-world stress test if the underlying system is too tight, too constrained, or too dependent on fuel and infrastructure that cannot deliver under extreme conditions. In that sense, spinning reserves now resemble oil market spare capacity: essential for day-to-day stability, but insufficient to protect the system from structural shocks. The New Chokepoints Oil markets were defined by physical chokepoints: the Strait of Hormuz; the Suez Canal; export terminals; and pipelines and refineries The grid now has its own: transmission corridors; substations; interconnection nodes; regional balancing authorities; and gas-electric coordination points. And just like oil chokepoints, these are: physically vulnerable; politically sensitive; and economically decisive. A single failed substation can now do what a closed shipping lane once did: disrupt entire regions, spike prices, and trigger emergency interventions. Weather Is the New Geopolitics Oil markets taught us that geopolitics drives volatility. The grid is teaching us that weather now plays the same role. Heat waves, cold snaps, storms, droughts, and wildfires increasingly determine: electricity prices; outage risk; emergency measures; and public trust in institutions. By some estimates, 80–90 percent of major U.S. power outages are now attributable to weather-related events. Weather now functions like geopolitical risk once did: an external force that stress-tests the system and exposes hidden fragilities. Unlike geopolitics, however, weather risk is universal, recurring, non-negotiable, and accelerating. It affects every region, every industry, and every household. Why This Matters More Than Oil Ever Did Electricity is not just another energy commodity. It underpins: digital infrastructure; industrial production; healthcare systems; national defense; financial markets; and every climate strategy. Oil price spikes hurt. Grid failure stops society. This is the structural shift most policymakers have not fully internalized. Energy security is no longer primarily about barrels and tankers. It is about electrons and transmission. And the system responsible for delivering them is now behaving exactly like oil markets once did: constrained, exposed, politically sensitive, and increasingly unable to respond at the speed of shocks. None of these constraints are insurmountable. They are not the result of physics, but of institutional design, regulatory timelines, and market incentives that evolved for a different era of energy demand. This is a design problem — not an inevitability problem. Policy Implications: Treat the Grid Like a Strategic Asset If the grid is now the new oil market, energy policy must shift from fuel politics to system resilience. Build for deliverability, not just capacity. Stop measuring success in installed megawatts. Prioritize transmission, interconnection reform, and grid hardening so energy can actually move when and where it is needed. Create markets for flexibility, not just energy. Modern reliability depends on fast-responding resources. Expand compensation for ancillary services, ramping reserves, and firm capacity that can respond in minutes, not years. Plan for stress, not averages. Grid planning still optimizes for normal conditions. Policy should stress-test systems against extreme weather, fuel disruption, cyber risk, and correlated outages — the same way financial regulators stress-test banks. Energy security is no longer about who controls supply. It is about whether the system can respond when reality deviates from the plan. A System That Changed Without Our Awareness The world spent half a century learning how to manage oil risk: strategic reserves; spare capacity; global coordination; redundancy; and scenario planning. We have done almost none of that for the grid. Instead, we treated it as background infrastructure while quietly loading it with: electrification; decarbonization; digitization; artificial intelligence; and economic growth. The grid did not become the new oil market because we designed it that way. It became the new oil market because everything else moved onto it. The question is no longer whether grid risk will shape inflation, growth, and national security. It already does. The real question is whether we will recognize that shift before the grid starts delivering the same kind of systemic shocks oil once did — but with far fewer escape valves. Rick Westerdale has more than 30 years of experience across the federal government as well as in the global energy industry. As a Vice President at Connector, Inc., a boutique government relations and political affairs firm based in Washington, D.C., Rick advises clients on strategy, investment, and policy across healthcare, hydrocarbons, LNG, hydrogen, nuclear, and the broader energy transition.

In an era defined by soaring inflation, supply chain anxiety, and shrinking horizons for American opportunity, American voters gave President Donald J. Trump an Electoral College mandate to return to Washington, D.C. to make sweeping changes. And the Trump Administration’s imminent repeal of the Environmental Protection Agency’s 2009 “endangerment finding” constitutes one of the most consequential steps yet in honoring that mandate. This decision isn’t merely a policy tweak or a regulatory adjustment. It is a foundational shift in how the federal government views its own reach and an unmistakable reaffirmation of the principles that animate the heart of the conservative movement: limited government, economic freedom, and the sovereignty of the American people. For over 15 years, the 2009 endangerment finding has stood as the legal linchpin for federal greenhouse gas regulation. It has been the backbone for sprawling rules under the Clear Air Act, including mandates on vehicle emissions and costly requirements across energy and manufacturing sectors. Its impact was far from abstract; it created a regulatory cascade that burdened producers, smothered innovation, and handed Washington bureaucrats unchecked authority to dictate economic outcomes. Today, those shackles are being broken. This isn’t ideological indulgence. This is the fulfillment of a promise — one made clearly and repeatedly — to restore common sense to federal governance and to unleash the American economy from the grip of unelected bureaucrats. A Deregulatory Victory the Left Can’t Spin Away White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt’s characterization of this repeal as “the largest deregulatory action in American history” is not hyperbole — it is an accurate summation of the economic and constitutional magnitude of what’s at stake. Over the last decade and a half, federal greenhouse gas regulation (under the endangerment finding) became the tool through which successive administrations imposed broad mandates that stunted growth, elevated compliance costs, and created uncertainty in every corner of the U.S. economy. Small business owners, energy producers, and manufacturers have lived under the specter of arbitrary federal dictates that made long-term planning nearly impossible. Young entrepreneurs have been told that compliance questions come before capital allocation decisions. Investors have oft chosen to look elsewhere rather than navigate Washington, D.C.’s ever-expanding regulatory labyrinth. Innovation — the lifeblood of American competitiveness — was being rationed through bureaucratic permission points. The repeal of the endangerment finding dismantles this underpinning. It removes a legal foundation long used to justify intrusive federal actions and shifts the balance back toward markets, individuals, and state authorities more attuned to local needs and realities. Unleashing Economic Potential The true scale of this action’s positive impact won’t be fully legible on spreadsheets for years. Deregulation is not a single event but rather a cumulative effect that compounds over time — lowering costs, encouraging entrepreneurship, and inviting capital back into dynamic sectors of the economy. Our most vital industries have felt the brunt of regulatory overreach. Energy production — from oil and gas to coal and emerging technologies — is not just an economic engine; it is a keystone of American security and global competitiveness. For too long, energy sector participants have operated within an environment where regulatory ambiguity curtailed investment, hobbled advancement, and discouraged the very innovation that defines our nation’s industrial leadership. By removing the federal government’s broad authority over greenhouse gases, this Administration is not signing a blank check for pollution — it is restoring balance. It returns the question of environmental stewardship to states, producers, and communities that live with the consequences of policies they help shape. Markets, not distant bureaucrats, will determine the best path forward. This is an enormous economic victory for American workers and investors alike. Freed from the fear of capricious federal rules, companies can chart strategic, long-term growth plans. Capital can flow into productive areas chosen by market forces, not dictated by agency edict. This fosters innovation, supports job creation, and enhances U.S. competitiveness on the world stage. The States — Not Washington, D.C. — Should Decide It bears repeating that this policy shift does not remove environmental protection from the nation’s agenda — it recalibrates who ought to be making those decisions. The framers of the Constitution envisioned a federal government with delegated powers, bounded by the Tenth Amendment. Matters best addressed at the state and local level — where citizens have direct voice and accountability — should be left there. States have diverse climates, economies, geographies, and priorities. What makes sense in rural Oklahoma may be inappropriate in coastal New England. A one-size-fits-all federal approach, imposed from Washington, inevitably produces mismatches between policy and need. That dynamic not only alienates citizens but also stifles regional innovation. By stepping back from dictating greenhouse gas policy from the top down, the Trump Administration is restoring decision-making power closer to the people those decisions directly impact. This decentralization is the very heart of conservative governance. It fosters responsiveness, encourages experimentation, and acknowledges the genius of federalism as a constitutional safeguard against centralization and monopolistic power. Predictable Pushback — and Why It Matters Make no mistake about it: the environment establishment and its lobbying arm are already mobilizing. Climate advocacy groups, funded by multibillion-dollar interests with ideological and political — not empirical — motivations will challenge this decision in court. They will frame their arguments in the familiar language of crisis and catastrophe. But that narrative — while potent in certain media circles — is disconnected from reality and from the lived experiences of millions of Americans who have paid the price for overbearing regulations. These predictable attacks are less about science and more about preserving power structures that have expanded federal reach at the expense of individual liberty. Moreover, opponents will cling to outdated models and alarmists projections that do not withstand rigorous empirical scrutiny. They will demand centralized authority over energy production, transportation, and industry . . . all under the guise of preventing hypothetical future harms. This is governance by fear rather than by principle. Conservatives must meet these arguments with clarity and confidence. The goal of public policy is not to chase every distant worry, but to empower citizens to thrive — economically, socially, and environmentally — in the real world. Americans do not need Washington, D.C. to tell them how to live; they need Washington, D.C. to get the hell out of the way. The Broader Fight for Limited Government This repeal must be understood as part of a broader conservative project. For years, Republicans have talked about shrinking the size and scope of the federal government. We’ve debated regulatory rollbacks, tax reform, and administrative accountability. We’ve promised to defend Constitutional order and revive the rule of law. This action by the Trump Administration delivers on that rhetoric. When the Republican Party took control of Congress in the mid-1990s, the phrase “Contract with America” promised real structural reforms to bring government back within its constitutional boundaries. This repeal of the endangerment finding carries that same spirit into the 21st century. It’s not about partisanship; it’s about principle. It’s about returning to a constitutional vision in which individuals, families, and businesses — not bureaucratic fiat — drive American prosperity. President Donald J. Trump ran in 2016 and again in 2024 promising to confront federal overreach. His campaign was not about half measures; it was about a wholesale restoration of American confidence. Unleashing economic potential isn’t an add-on to conservative ideology — it is conservative ideology. It is the steadfast belief that free enterprise, unencumbered by arbitrary obstacles, yields the greatest public good. This Administration’s commitment to deregulation — most notably through dismantling the legal engine that powered greenhouse gas federal mandates — reaffirms that commitment. Looking Forward: Opportunity, Innovation, and American Exceptionalism What follows this repeal should not be paralysis from fear of litigation or surrender to environmental alarmism. Instead, it should be a renewed confidence in the capacity of the American people to innovate and adapt. From next-generation energy technologies to breakthrough manufacturing processes, the next wave of U.S. economic leadership will be defined by those willing to take risks — not those burdened by redundant regulatory constraints. The Trump Administration’s repeal of the EPA’s endangerment finding constitutes a bold reaffirmation of conservative fundamentals. In doing so, it is delivering on a promise to restore power to where it belongs: with the people, the states, and the innovators who will build tomorrow’s economy. States will step up. Entrepreneurs will launch new ventures. Investors will find clarity in policy and certainty in purpose. This is how America regains momentum . . . not through central planning but through unleashing the energy of individuals empowered to pursue their ambitions. That is conservative governance in action — not in rhetoric, but in results. Rob Burgess is a national Republican strategist, and Chief Executive Officer at Connector, Inc. – a boutique government relations and political affairs firm with offices in Washington, D.C.

Have you seen a headline lately that reads something along the lines of: "Republicans’ Chances of a Midterm Victory Vanish” or “Trump’s Approval Ratings Continue to Fall" Well, you’re not alone. We all live in a media-driven political landscape that conditions voters into thinking and feeling what seems unquestionable, because it’s all too inconvenient to think otherwise. As the midterms approach, the main theme in Washington, D.C. for Republicans seems eerie, as we are perceived as on the defensive, Democrats are poised to reclaim the gavel, and the political pendulum is swinging left. Legacy media reinforces this perspective, creating the impression that the outcome is all but settled. The truth? It isn’t. Hidden beneath the deceit of left-wing “journalism” lies a hard truth that favors Republicans far more than many will admit. If the GOP focuses on kitchen table issues and cost-of-living victories under the Trump Administration, there’s not only a path to victory, but a compelling case the American people can feel. The Economy is Still the Number One Issue Ignoring the noise of investigations, court cases, and Capitol Hill skirmishes, American voters are remarkably honest about what matters most to them. When they fill out their private ballot, they are far more likely to consider grocery costs, rent, mortgage rates, credit card debt, and job security. These issues shape daily life in ways political grandstanding never will, and Republicans should capitalize on it. This matters in 2026 because the economy has stabilized in ways that favor Republican messaging. Inflation has cooled, job numbers remain strong, and consumer confidence — while not euphoric — has improved relative to when President Donald J. Trump first re-assumed office. Many voters may not describe the economy as “booming,” but they can feel the difference between chaos and calm. Even today, Republicans hold a solid advantage when voters are asked which Party they trust more to manage the economy. It’s a consistent data point that withstands the turbulence of civil unrest, riots, protests, and tragedy. President Trump’s unconventional approach to issues Democrats have cried foul over have reinforced that perception. For example, his push to cap credit card rates broke with traditional conservative orthodoxy, but spoke directly to the pain point millions of Americans experience every day. Republicans have an opportunity to use these policy ideas as emotional appeals as well as logical ones . . . something the Democrats do to win elections at every turn. Democrats’ ICE Strategy and Why It’ll Backfire On the flip side, Democrats have been unbashfugl in signaling their plan to persuade Americans in November. Expect an unchanged strategy: use ICE and immigration enforcement as the moral centerpiece of their campaigns. Their goal: to energize woke voters, frame Republicans as extremists, cast ICE as the boogeyman, and turn the midterms into a referendum on social unrest rather than affordability. There is no doubt this message motivates the Democratic base. But elections are not won by base turnout alone. Swing voters and independents consistently rank economic issues above immigration when asked what they prioritize in the voting booth. While the Left rallies paid activists with rhetoric about immigration enforcement, many working-class voters are asking the common question: “Am I better off today than I was two years ago?” That is the selling point. Republicans do not need to withhold conversation on immigration and ICE; they need to contextualize it and approach it with dignity in cases of tragic outcomes. Border security, rule of law, and illegal immigration are not radical positions, they are mainstream concerns. But Republicans win when they connect those policies to broader economic stability, public safety, and fairness for legal immigrants and American workers alike. The risk for Democrats is that by relying too heavily on ICE as a political villain rather than what the total is at the cash register, they appear disconnected from the everyday pressures voters face. Social and culture wars may dominate social media and headlines, but people’s bank accounts dominate the vote on Election Day. Trust Decides Elections Midterms are contests of trust. Voters ask which party understands their lives, manages crises competently, and governs with a sense of urgency to move the needle. On that note, Republicans still have the upper hand . . . but only if they claim it first. The GOP message does not need to be radical to mobilize voters. It needs to be practical — stable prices, predictable policy, and more opportunity. That message resonates across Party lines, particularly among voters exhausted by constant political chaos. While Democrats focus on fear and escalation, Republicans can position themselves as the Party of normalcy and reason. President Trump’s Responsibility in the Midterms None of this happens without President Trump playing an active and disciplined role in key states around the country. Love him or hate him, he remains the most powerful force within the Republican Party. His ability to rally supporters is unmatched, and turnout among his base will be decisive in close races. But President Trump’s role in the midterms must extend beyond grievance. If he wants to maintain Republican control in Washington, D.C. and avoid a Democrat majority that is eager to launch endless investigations and impeachments, he must wield his influence toward turnout. It’ll take a nationwide tour highlighting his achievements and results, and the occasional stoking of the fire to mobilize his loyalists. It means reminding voters what Republican leadership delivered, not simply what Democrats oppose. To our advantage in messaging, the reality that a Democrat takeover would usher in bipartisan harmony is laughable and voters need to know that. Progress will be stalled while they set their agenda toward tearing down President Trump and his cabinet. Republicans can make a compelling case that divided government in today’s political climate is not an option. A Winnable Election — If Republicans Choose It The 2026 midterms are not owned by Democrats. They will be decided by voters weighing the opportunity costs of voting blue or voting red. If Republicans stay true to cost of living triumphs, and mobilize their base, they will defy the current prophetic reporting of the Left. This election will not be won through social media outrage, cable news meltdowns, or late-night monologues. It will be won by the Party that Americans see as an ally. For Republicans, that opportunity is still very much alive. Corey Stevens is a seasoned campaign operative and respected national strategist having worked on successful local, state, and federal races throughout the southwest and western United States. He serves as Director of Accounts at Connector, Inc. — a boutique government relations and political affairs firm in Washington, D.C.

Every energy system looks resilient — until it is tested. Right now, extreme winter weather across much of the United States is doing exactly that: stress-testing the oil, natural gas, and power systems in real time. The headlines are familiar — production shut-ins, gas price spikes, grid strain — but the lesson runs deeper than any single storm. Weather like this doesn’t just disrupt supply . . . it exposes where the energy ecosystem is structurally vulnerable and where comfortable assumptions fail under pressure. This is not a hypothetical exercise. It is happening now. In recent days, severe cold has temporarily knocked out as much as one to two millions barrels per day of United States oil production, largely due to freeze-offs and infrastructure constraints in major producing regions. Natural gas production and flows have been curtailed at precisely the moment heating demand surged, pushing prices sharply higher. Power grids have come under strain as demand peaks and generation outages mount. Importantly, this is not system collapse. But it is unmistakable system stress — and repeated stress without adaptation is how failures eventually form. On paper, none of this should be surprising. According to the Energy Information Administration (EIA) and the International Energy Agency (IEA), global oil markets remain adequately supplied. U.S. crude production is at record levels and inventories are not historically tight. Spare capacity exists and forecasts suggest manageable balances. And yet, the system is bending. That gap — between what balance sheet simply and what infrastructure delivers under stress — is where energy security is actually tested. Weather as a Reality Check, Not an Anomaly Energy planning is built on averages: average demand, average production, average utilization. Forecasts are indispensable for understanding long-term trends, but they rely on a critical assumption — that infrastructure functions as designed. Weather does not respect that assumption. Extreme cold doesn’t care that inventories are adequate or that spare capacity exists somewhere in the system. When temperatures plunge, pumps freeze, compressors fail, processing plants trip offline, and power plants lose fuel assurance or operating stability. Energy that “exists” on paper becomes energy that cannot move. This is the difference between installed capacity and deliverable energy — a distinction that only becomes visible under stress. Weather compresses timelines. It removes the luxury of gradual adjustment. And in doing so, it reveals how little margin for error modern energy systems actually have. Street does not equal failure. But, repeated stress without structural reinforcement eventually produces it — and markets price that trajectory long before systems visibly break. Oil: Record Production, Thin Buffers The United States oil sector illustrates the point clearly. American production has never been higher, and shale remains a powerful source of supply over time. But shale is not an emergency switch. Freeze-offs can remove meaningful volumes almost instantly, and restoring them requires functioning infrastructure, labor, and time. A temporary loss of one or two million barrels per day may not sound catastrophic in a global market exceeding 100 million barrels per day. Markets react sharply though because they understand what is being revealed: buffers are thinner than they appear. Global spare capacity is concentrated in a small number of producers and regions. Weather-related outages in the United States removes one of the system’s most flexible components just as other risks remain unresolved. What looks like surplus quickly becomes exposure. Years of capital discipline and efficiency optimization have improved returns — but they have also reduced slack, redundancy, and tolerance for disruption. Markets helped create the exposure they now fear. Natural Gas: Tight When It Matters Most Natural gas markets are even more sensitive to extreme weather. Cold snaps hit supply and demand simultaneously. Freeze-offs reduce production and pipeline throughput just as heating demand peaks. The EIA has long noted that U.S. gas markets are increasingly shaped by the interaction of weather, power generation, and export demand. This winter reinforces that reality. Storage withdrawals accelerate, regional bottlenecks emerge, and prices move rapidly. Gas markets do not fail quietly. They transmit stress directly into electricity markets and household heating bills. When gas tightens, energy insecurity becomes immediate and personal. This stress is intensified by demand rigidity. When homes must be heated, hospitals powered, and industry kept running, demand does not politely adjust to price signals. In those moments, supply flexibility — not market balance — determines outcomes. Power Grids, People, and the Texas Lesson No modern discussion of winter stress tests is complete without recalling Texas and ERCOT. The 2021 winter storm exposed profound vulnerabilities in the Texas power system — insufficient winterization, poor fuel coordination, and market structures that prioritized efficiency over resilience. The result was widespread outages and tragic consequences. That failure mattered because it forced change. Since then, Texas has taken tangible steps to harden its system. Generation assets have been winterized. Fuel supply coordination has improved. Reliability standards have been strengthened. While no grid is immune to extreme conditions, ERCOT today is materially better positioned than it was just a few years ago. That matters for two reasons. First, it confirms that resilience is not accidental. It must be designed, regulated, staffed, and paid for in advance. Second, it underscores that failures are diagnostic. They reveal weaknesses that can be addressed — if there is the will to do so. But infrastructure alone is not the full story. Resilience also depends on people: trained operators, maintenance crews, grid managers, and emergency coordinators. These human systems cannot be surged overnight. When weather hits, the speed and quality of response often determine whether stress becomes failure. Across the country, power systems are being pushed harder by extreme weather, rising demand, and tighter operating margins. Recent storms have again forced grid operators to manage outages measured in tens of gigawatts. These are not edge cases. They are signals. What Forecasts Don’t — and Can’t — Capture None of this means the EIA or the IEA are wrong. Their forecasts describe likely balances under expected conditions. They are not designed to capture short-duration, high-impact disruptions that expose how tightly coupled the system has become. Resilience only becomes visible under stress. Weather events like this winter are not statistical outliers. They are previews of how modern energy systems behave when efficiency collides with physics. Beyond Weather: Compounding Stress Tests Weather is only one stress test. The same vulnerabilities exposed by extreme cold are exploited by other disruptions: geopolitical escalation, shipping chokepoints, infrastructure sabotage, cyber incidents, or sudden demand shocks. In each case, the system is judged not by how much energy exists, but by how quickly and reliably it can respond. These risks do not arrive one at a time. They overlap. A cold snap can coincide with geopolitical tension. A supply disruption can occur while grids are already strained. In that environment, energy security is not a static condition — it is a function of speed, redundancy, and deliverability under pressure. Markets understand this intuitively. That is why prices react sharply to stress tests, even when inventories appear comfortable. Stress Tests Are Signals Telling Us to Pay Attention This winter’s weather is more than a headline . . . it is a signal. It shows where infrastructure is fragile, where redundancy is thin, where labor and response capacity are constrained, and where policy assumptions collide with physical reality. If extreme cold can meaningfully disrupt oil, gas, and power systems at the same time, then the margin for error in energy planning is far smaller than many assume. When energy systems stumble, consequences extend well beyond prices. They ripple into inflation, public confidence, and trust in institutions tasked with managing risk. The next stress test may come from heat waves, storms, cyberattacks, or geopolitical miscalculation. The question markets are already asks is not whether the next test will come — but whether the system will be better prepared when it does. Energy security is not measured in averages. It is measured in performance under pressure. Rick Westerdale has more than 30 years of experience across the federal government as well as in the global energy industry. As a Vice President at Connector, Inc., a boutique government relations and political affairs firm based in Washington, D.C., Rick advises clients on strategy, investment, and policy across healthcare, hydrocarbons, LNG, hydrogen, nuclear, and the broader energy transition.

Do you want to get your blood pumping first thing in the morning? If so, go into whichever Artificial Intelligence (AI) client you prefer and type in something along the lines of: “Based on what you know about me, create a voter guide for me to help decide which candidates to vote for in the upcoming election for (fill in the blank).” Depending on how you use your AI, this could be a pretty shocking revelation. Full disclosure: almost all AI clients will refuse to tell you “who” to vote for or which candidate is “better.” However, even a beginning user can phrase a question in such a way that AI will give them the information they want. I have been working in campaigns for over 30 years and this is the biggest seismic change I have ever seen. If you are not taking this into consideration as your craft your campaign messaging and advertising strategy, then you are already behind the 8-ball. Despite the fact that I have been working in campaigns for over 30 years, the fact is that I too am just as clueless as the average voter on who to vote for in county and local elections . . . especially primaries. This isn’t because I am uninformed or not engaged. It is because how these campaigns message to voters. When I previously lived in California, I was actually relieved to get my ballot in the mail because I needed time to do Google. Community College Board? District 17 Judge? Tax Assessor? Unless they were a client of mine, I had no idea who most of these people were and without a Party label, I was just guessing unless I looked up each office and each candidate. But, who has the time to Google over 60 elected offices, tax questions, and ballot proposals for their ballot? God forbid you are voting in person . . . then you are more often than not shooting in the dark. How is this changing with the advent of AI, though? For decades, voters who wanted to be “informed” before an election faced a familiar problem: too much noise and too little clarity. Yard signs told you nothing and television ads told you what campaigns wanted you to hear. Cable news told you to be angry at while campaign websites — while polished — rarely helped voters compare candidates in a meaningful way. That’s where AI is changing the game. Increasingly, everyday voters — not just political junkies or consultants — are using tools like ChatGPT as a kind of personal research assistant. Not to be told how to vote, but to understand what’s actually going on before they make up their minds. That shift has a quiet but profound implication for democracy and for campaigns. How Voters Are Actually Using ChatGPT Most voters don’t ask ChatGPT, “Who should I vote for?” Instead, they’re asking smarter, more grounded questions: What does this office actually do? What issues matter most at the local level? What’s the difference between these candidates’ positions, in plain English? What’s fact, what’s spin, and what’s missing? For the first time, a voter can upload a mailer, paste a debate quote, or reference a claim and ask if it is accurate, what the proper context should be, and what they should know that isn’t be said or shared. That, in itself, matters significantly because it shifts power away from whomever shouts loudest and toward whoever explains best. Just as importantly, AI doesn’t get tired, care about party labels, or reward outrage. It rewards clarity, consistency, and evidence — exactly the traits voters say they want more of. A More Demanding Voter is Emerging This doesn’t mean voters are suddenly policy experts. It means that they’re becoming better consumers of political information and, hopefully, better constituents. Thanks to AI, voters can compare candidates side by side without sitting through hours of content, learn what is realistic versus what is rhetorical, and easily identify when a candidate is avoiding specifics. In short, voters are outsourcing the hard part — organizing information — while keeping the decision for themselves. That’s healthy and it changes how campaigns should think about persuasion. What Campaigns Should Understand — Right Now Campaigns should assume something new: anything they say may be interrogated, summarized, compared, and contextualized by AI . . . instantly. That means campaigns can no longer rely on vague language, selective statistics, issue overload, and talking past obvious weaknesses. The reason? Because AI doesn’t play along. It notices contradictions; it flags omissions; it summarizes what a candidate actually stands for, not what a mail piece implies. So, what should campaigns do about this? Be Explicit About Priorities Voters utilizing AI tools are not impressed by laundry lists. They want to know what the candidates’ top three priorities are, why, and what happens if those priorities aren’t addressed in the way you lay out. Campaigns that clearly rank priorities will look more serious than those that try to be everything to everyone. Explain Tradeoffs Honestly Every policy choice has costs. Voters know that instinctively — and AI reinforces it. Campaigns that acknowledge tradeoffs (“This helps here, but it may cost us there…”) build credibility. Campaigns that pretend that every idea is painless don’t . . . it’s that simple. Make Positions Comparable When voters ask ChatGPT to compare candidates, it pulls from what is available. Campaigns should ensure their positions are clearly written, publicly accessible, and consistent across platforms. If a campaign’s stance can’t be summarized accurately, that is a warning sign — not a branding victory. Prepare for “Second-Order” Questions AI users don’t stop at surface claims. They follow up initial questions like: How would this be funded? Who benefits from this? Who decides on this? What happens next year and the year after that? Campaigns need to be prepared to answer those questions before voters ask them. Treat Clarity as a Competitive Advantage In an AI-mediated environment, clarity beats cleverness. The candidates who will benefit most aren’t necessarily the loudest or most ideological — they’re the ones who explain themselves well, respect voters’ intelligence, and don’t dodge obvious follow-up questions. That kind of candidate stands out when information is distilled instead of dramatized. A Healthier Campaign Environment — If We Let It Used well, tools like ChatGPT won’t replace civic judgment . . . they’'ll sharpen it. They will help voters cut through clutter and focus on what matters. They will reward seriousness over spectacle. Ultimately, that is good for voters and it is good for campaigns too. The campaigns that adapt — by being clearer, more honest, and more prepared — won’t just survive this shift. They’ll earn something rarer than click or impressions. They’ll earn trust. And in a crowded, polarized political environment, trust may be the most valuable currency left. Chris Faulkner, a United States Marine Corps veteran (1991–2001), serves as a Senior Advisor at Connector, Inc. where he leans on nearly three decades of winning campaigns to advise our clients on their political efforts and goals. He and his wife, Angela, live outside Knoxville, Tennessee with their poodle and pit bull, and are proud parents of three adult sons.

For decades, the United States treated participation in the World Health Organization (WHO) as a given. Membership was rarely questioned and was widely assumed to represent leadership, responsibility, and global cooperation. But in recent years, that assumption deserved a hard, second look. What the WHO has become, how it operates, and whether its priorities still align with American values and democratic governance are questions that can no longer be ignored. Stepping away from the WHO was not an act of isolation, it was an act of clarity. The WHO is not merely a neutral forum for public health coordination, it has evolved into a political body with increasingly ambitious efforts to shape domestic policy within its member nations. WHO leadership has been open about shifting decision-making away from voters, legislatures, and national governments and placing it instead in the hands of bureaucrats who are largely shielded from public accountability. That approach runs directly counter to the American system of self-government — the system we all vote for and the system our tax dollars pay for. One of the clearest examples of this overreach is the WHO Framework Convention on Tobacco Control. While presented as a public health initiative, the treaty goes far beyond sharing research information or best practices. It pressures governments to adopts uniform regulatory regimes, restrict lawful commerce, and marginalize entire industries without regard for local economic realities or a consumer’s right to choose whether to use legal tobacco products. The tobacco sector supports hundreds of thousands of jobs worldwide — from farmers in Central America, Southeast Asia, and Africa to manufacturers in the Caribbean Basin to logistics workers and retailers in the United States. These are lawful products, sold to adults, and often tied to agricultural traditions that predate modern regulatory systems by centuries. The WHO does not treat those workers and businesses as stakeholders. The WHO doesn't care about heritage or generational storytelling. More often, the WHO treats these families, workers, and businesses as expendable . . . or worse, as adversaries. Just collateral damage to their world vision. This mindset shows up across multiple issue areas. Whether the subject is food policy, energy use, pandemic response, or even speech related to health topics, the organization repeatedly advances a centralized model where global “experts” issue guidance that quickly becomes political pressure. Expertise itself is not the problem, authority without consent is. WHO officials are not elected. They do not answer to American voters. Yet, their recommendations increasingly function as mandates, especially when paired with funding conditions and diplomatic leverage. Many politicians from around the world assume all that comes out of the WHO is gospel, and should be enacted as quickly as their governments will allow. That is not cooperation . . . that is governance by proxy. The financial imbalance made matters worse. The United States was the single largest contributor to the WHO, providing hundreds of millions of dollars each year through a mix of required dues and voluntary funding. In recent years, total U.S. contributions exceeded $500 million. That money came from American taxpayers! Yet, American influence within the organization remained limited all while U.S. voters, businesses, and policy preferences were routinely sidelined or targeted through WHO edicts. At the same time, accountability was scarce. WHO failures were rarely met with consequences and leadership missteps were brushed aside. Structural reform was promised repeatedly and delivered . . . never. Viewed in that context, the decision to leave was not radical. It was rational, and good decision making. Walking away allows the United States to reassert control over its public health policy, restore constitutional lines of authority, and redirect resources toward domestic priorities or bilateral partnerships that respect national autonomy and the businesses that ultimately fund these programs. Global cooperation does not require surrendering control to a centralized institution that has proven resistant to reform and punishes dissent. Notably, global public health did not collapse when the United States stepped back. American scientists, agencies, and private institutions continued to lead through direct collaboration, innovation, and targeted aid. Leadership does not depend on membership in a bureaucracy that no longer reflects shared values. There has been a fascinating response from certain political leaders at home. California’s recent effort to formally align itself with the WHO, signaling cooperation independent of the federal government, raises serious constitutional and practical concerns. Believe it or not, states are not sovereign nations. They cannot join international organizations, negotiate treaties, or conduct foreign policy. Attempting to bypass national decision making in favor of international alignment undermines federalism and sets a dangerous precedent, one where unelected global bodies gain influence through fragmented domestic channels. These moves are less about improving health outcomes and more about political signaling. California is using the WHO to communicate ideological loyalty to progressive voters, even if it means subordinating state interests to global institutions. This debate is not really about health policy. It is about who decides. The United States was founded on the principle that power flows upward from the people, not downward from distant authorities. The WHO increasingly represents the opposite philosophy. Leaving it was not reckless, it was responsible, and we should never return. The future of American leadership lies in strong institutions at home, voluntary cooperation abroad, and an unwavering commitment to democratic accountability. Global health matters. Sovereignty matters more. Ryan Parada is a Partner and the Chief Government Affairs Officer for Connector, Inc. where he oversees both domestic and international portfolios. He is a policy expert for our clients in numerous areas, including national security, energy, and the tobacco industry.

Just a few days ago, a “letter” was published by FoxNews.com from 154 liberal Episcopalian bishops — including Washington, D.C.’s Rt. Rev. Mariann Budde — posing a question framed as moral: Whose dignity matters? Their outrage over the enforcement of our nation’s immigration laws paint a picture of moral clarity, compassion, and Christian concern . . . or so they want us to believe. In reality, their outrage is less about morality and more about politics — a political agenda being preached from pulpits that belong not to them, but to the faithful of Jesus Christ. These bishops seek to weaponize the Church against the law of the land, cloaking political activism in religious language. They claim moral authority, yet ignore both history and the law in favor of cherry-picking tragedies to justify a narrative that fits their ideological agenda. These 154 bishops seem to have forgotten — or decided to deliberately ignore — that law enforcement is not a moral failing. It is a constitutional responsibility, a civic duty, and, in fact, a bipartisan tradition that spans decades of Democrat and Republican administrations alike. It is critical to understand the context these select bishops deliberately omit. The Immigration and Nationality Act of 1952, the foundation of modern United States immigration law, was written and introduced by Democrat senators. In fact, it was passed by a Democrat-controlled Senate and House, sent to a Democrat president (President Truman) for signature, and the same Democrat-controlled Senate and House overrode his veto. Since June of 1952, this law has been enforced by every president — Democrat and Republican alike — since its passage. That includes notable Democrats like Presidents John F. Kennedy, Jimmy Carter, Bill Clinton, and Barack Obama (who deported more individuals than President Donald J. Trump during his tenure). These presidents enforced the law without dissembling the “morality” we now see from these liberal activists bishops. Even Democrats like Hillary Clinton ran for national office on enforcing immigration law, stating in Iowa during her 2008 presidential campaign: “I want to know who they are, I want to have them on a registry, I want to deport the criminals . . . You’ve got to make them pay back taxes, you’ve got to pay fines, you’ve got to try to get them to learn English, they’ve got to stay in line and keep working and be productive and stay out of trouble.” Her viewpoint wasn’t controversial at the time. It did not prompt national outrage. It was recognized as the responsibility of the federal government to enforce laws passed by Congress. Yet now, nearly two decades later, liberal activist bishops act as if enforcing the law is a moral crime, as if the rule of law itself is inherently unjust. This is not merely a political critique — it is a direct assault on the principle of equal application of the law, a principle foundational to both justice and order. To cast enforcement as cruelty or fear-based policy is to rewrite history, erase context, and fundamentally misrepresent the legal and moral precedent that has guided our nation for generations. The Rt. Rev. Mariann Budde and her 153 co-signers claim moral authority while dressing their political grievances in the language of religion and the vestments of liturgy. But their hypocrisy is clear when you understand how the Episcopal Church is structured and what ordination (and consecration) actually entails. Authority is Presiding, Not Personal — The Episcopal Church in the United States elects a Presiding Bishop, currently The Most Rev. Sean Rowe. The Presiding Bishop serves as the chief pastor, primate, and CEO of the Episcopal Church. With that authority comes the responsibility to speak on behalf of the Episcopal Church in the United States. Members of the House of Bishops or the House of Delegates (the two governing bodies of the Episcopal Church, much like Congress), the clergy, or the laity may disagree with the Presiding Bishop’s positions or statements, but the Presiding Bishop has the duly elected and appointed authority to represent the Church . . . no other person. Individual bishops, priests, and lay leaders cannot speak for the Church as a whole and should refrain from utilizing their titles, offices, or positions when commenting on politically sensitive matters. These 154 liberal activists bishops have no more authority to speak for the Church at large than any parish priest; they are not a moral tribunal of the nation. Their letters are self-appointed, their outrage is self-directed, and their moral gravitas is self-proclaimed. Their Office and the Pulpit are Not Political Platforms — If a bishop or a member of the clergy believes immigration laws are unjust, they have the same tools available to any private citizen: voting, lobbying, writing op-eds, and running for public office in their personal capacity. They do not, however, have the right to use their office or the pulpit to coerce congregants into adopting their political views. The pulpit is not theirs. It is not a broadcast station for ideology. As the Rt. Rev. Elizabeth Gardner, Bishop of Nevada, said: “…ordination does not mean I inflict my personal political beliefs on congregations (and now a diocese). Just like Pastor Andy Stanley, the only people who want me to be political are those who want me to agree with their political positions.” The Episcopal Pulpit Belongs to the Faithful, Not Ideology — Liberal activists may believe their political agenda is morally superior, but that does not give them the right to impose it under the guise of spiritual authority. This is not the first time the Episcopal Church has been politicized. Membership has declined from over 3 million in 1979 to less than 1 million today, reflecting a broader cultural trend, but also highlighting the cost of politicizing the pulpit. Conservative Episcopalians, moderates, and even disaffected liberals have witnessed, year after year, sermons and statements that prioritize ideology over faith. The Church’s mission is timeless: Preach the Good Word, faithfully and without partisanship. Provide sacramental fulfillment and spiritual guidance. Build and sustain community rooted in Christ, not in partisan agendas. Yet, the liberal activists bishops have continued to turn the pulpit into political theater and they believe it is their role to lecture, scold, leverage fear and moral intimidation as tools to broadcast their political worldview rather than preaching the Word of God. And they do so with the implicit threat that disagreement is un-Christian. Nothing could be further from the truth. It is worth examining the names and geographies of the bishops who signed this so-called “letter.” The Episcopal Church of the United States has 107 official dioceses that are led by a bishop. Of the 154 signatories, only 68 actively oversee a diocese, meaning 67 are retired bishops with no current congregational responsibilities. It also means that 39 active bishops refused to add their name to this letter. Those 68 diocesan signers represent parts or all of 38 states, and of those, 20 states (53%) voted for President Donald J. Trump in the 2024 election, including his policies on immigration enforcement. This highlights the even among the active bishops, a significant portion comes from states that supported the very policies the “letter” criticizes. Beyond the moral and spiritual concerns, there are very real legal and financial risks that these 68 active liberal bishops are disregarding. The Episcopal Church, like all non-profit religious organizations in the United States, benefits from a strict tax-exempt status that limits partisan political activity. Yet, through repeated op-eds, public letters, and repeated political messaging from their pulpits, these bishops are straying from their stated mission and venturing into territory that could jeopardize the tax-exempt status of their dioceses. Many dioceses do not have the financial resources to absorb potential fines or liabilities that might arise from increased scrutiny by the IRS. What begins as political advocacy could easily escalate into a long-term structural and financial threat, putting the very institutions they claim to serve at risk while undermining the Church’s ability to fund its spiritual and community missions . . . all so they could proudly call themselves liberal activists against the Trump Administration. If you are an Episcopalian concerned with the faith rather than the ideology, this is your moment. Show up. Engage. Demand change. The activists left does not own the pulpit; the Church belongs to its members, to its congregants, and ultimately to Christ. Your political engagement as a citizen is one thing. Your spiritual guidance by a cleric is another. These liberal bishops have blurred that line deliberately. Conservative Episcopalians — indeed, all Episcopalians — must insist on clarity: the pulpit is a sacred space, not a podium for ideology. It is time to reclaim the Church from partisanship, not for politics, not for self-aggrandizement, and certainly not for the ideology of the activists left. It is time to restore the Church’s mission: teaching the Word, offering the sacraments, and serving as a moral anchor for society — not as a bully pulpit for political narratives. Being politically active is permissible . . . on your own time. Being morally responsible is expected. But the Bible and the Baptismal Covenant — not the Democrat Party Platform — provides the framework: Seek and Serve Christ. Always. Respect the dignity of every human being. Even those with whom you disagree. Strive for justice. But through lawful means, not through coercive moral theater. Proclaim by word and example with integrity, not ideology. Liberal activist bishops fail on every count. They confuse the moral with the political. They confuse the congregation with a campaign audience. They confuse faith with fear. And in doing so, they weaken the Church, divide its members, and erode its influence in the very communities they claim to serve. If being an activist and politically-outspoken is what they truly are passionate about now, they should resign their office, renounce their Orders, and seek a political career. Otherwise, it is imperative they return to their duty and their role in the profession they claim to have been called to. Conservative Episcopalians, and all who value a Church that preaches the gospel rather than preaches politics, have a responsibility: show up, engage, and demand accountability. Let the Church know that the pulpit is a sacred trust, not a political weapon. These 154 bishops asked whose dignity matters. But dignity is not conferred by title, ordination, or political alignment. It is conferred by faithful service, adherence to law, and moral consistency. By these measures, the individuals who leveraged their pastoral office for political purpose fall woefully short. They lecture the nation on law and morality while ignoring history, precedent, and the Constitution. They weaponized the Church to advance ideology rather than faith. The answer to their question is clear: dignity belongs to those who live by faith, law, and conscience — not those who claim moral authority to advance political agendas. Conservative Episcopalians must take back the pulpit, reaffirm the Church’s mission, and demonstrate that the Episcopal Church is a place for worship, for teaching, and for the living of Christian values — not a vehicle for liberal activism disguised as morality. Faith, law, and moral clarity demand no less. The Church and the nation will be stronger for it. Rob Burgess is a national Republican strategist, and Chief Executive Officer at Connector, Inc. – a boutique government relations and political affairs firm with offices in Washington, D.C.

The death of Renée Good was not inevitable. It was not an unavoidable accident. And it was not the product of a single bad decision made in a vacuum. The death of Renée Good was the foreseeable result of elected officials at state and local levels choosing confrontation, confusion, and political signaling over lawful process and coordination. When state and local officials openly resist lawful cooperation with federal authorities; when lawful processes are ignored or undermined; and when enforcement becomes reactive rather than planned, tragedy becomes more likely. Renée Good’s death should force an uncomfortable but necessary reckoning: when elected leaders ignore laws, they create the environment for tragedy. This is not an abstract policy debate. It is about real communities, real law enforcement officers, and real citizens caught in the middle of institutional dysfunction. Across the country, states have taken sharply different approaches to immigration enforcement. In states like Texas, cooperation with federal authorities (while controversial in some circles) has produced clear, predictable enforcement outcomes. Dangerous individuals with criminal histories are identified, apprehended, and removed through structured operations that prioritize planning and coordination. The result is not perfection, but clarity that ultimately reduces chaos, minimizes surprise encounters, and protects the public as a whole. Contrast that with the approach taken in Minnesota, where state and local leaders have openly resisted federal enforcement, challenged lawful actions in court, and publicly delegitimized the authority of federal agents. Whatever one’s views on immigration policy, this posture has consequences. When federal officers operate in hostile or ambiguous environments — without cooperation from local law enforcement — standard and routine enforcement actions are more likely to occur in public spaces, under compressed timelines, and with heightened tension. That is when mistakes happen and that is when lives are lost. Too often, the debate is framed as a binary choice between compassion and enforcement. That framing is false — and dangerously so. Adherence to the law protects everyone, including non-violent illegal immigrants. Clear legal standards, lawful warrants, and coordinated enforcement reduce the likelihood of chaotic encounters, mistaken identities, and unnecessary escalation. When enforcement is predictable and governed by due process, individuals who pose no threat are far less likely to be swept into dangerous situations born of confusion and fear. Ironically, jurisdictions that claim to be protecting immigrant communities be resisting lawful enforcement often achieve the opposite. By pushing law enforcement into powder keg situations and by creating uncertainty about when and how the law will be applied, these communities are increasing the likelihood of sudden, uncoordinated encounters in neighborhoods, workplaces, and public spaces. Lawful, transparent enforcement allows authorities to separate violent offenders from non-violent individuals, reducing risk to everyone involved. This is not about mass deportations or collective punishment. It is about process. It is about the rule of law as a stabilizing force — one that protect citizens, law-enforcement officers, and immigrant communities alike. When state officials choose political theater over cooperation, they do not make enforcement disappear. They make it more dangerous. Federal officers will still act . . . they are sworn to. Criminal actors will still exploit gaps . . . they can’t help themselves. The difference in this scenario is that the safety rails are gone. Outlier state and local officials like the ones in Minnesota are the exception, not the norm. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) is conducting operations across the country . . . so why is the conflict so localized? Candidly, the blame runs much higher than state and local jurisdictions. Years of apathy at the federal level under previous administrations have created the fuel for an explosion and sadly they will never have to answer for these gross crimes of inaction. That doesn’t mean those former administration didn’t enforce immigration law . . . in fact they did. They just did so without having Democrat elected leaders cause confusion, contention, and chaos while urging their supporters to riot and resist federal authorities. Good governance requires humility and coordination. It requires recognizing that no single level of government operates in isolation, and that public denunciations and legal obstruction carry downstream consequences. When elected officials undermine lawful authority while offering no workable alternative, they create precisely the conditions that lead to tragedy. Renée Good’s death should not be used as a talking point or a rallying cry. It is a tragically predictable outcome. There is a path forward — one that does not require ideological agreement, only institutional responsibility: Clear agreements between federal, state, and local law enforcement that defines roles and responsibilities that cannot be disregard or set aside by elected leaders because they don’t personally agree with the enforcement action; Advance coordination and planning for enforcement actions with the goal of those actions being swift and (to all extents possible) non-disruptive of daily life around the target area; Transparent communication with communities about lawful process and rights so that individuals are not caught off-guard should they be detained or arrested for interfering or hindering a federal law enforcement action; and Independent accountability when force is used, free from political spin. The law exists not to provoke conflict, but to prevent it. When government refuses to follow its own rules, the cost is measured not in headlines or court filings, but in lives. If leaders continue to choose defiance over discipline, symbolism over substance, and politics over process . . . Renée Good will not be the last name we learn too late. Chris Faulkner, a United States Marine Corps veteran (1991–2001), serves as a Senior Advisor at Connector, Inc. where he leans on nearly three decades of winning campaigns to advise our clients on their political efforts and goals. He and his wife, Angela, live outside Knoxville, Tennessee with their poodle and pit bull, and are proud parents of three adult sons.

For the better part of the past year, the dominant narrative in oil markets has been one of comfort. Global inventories are healthy. U.S. crude production is at record levels. Demand growth has moderated from post-pandemic highs. Analysts point to millions of barrels per day of spare capacity sitting inside OPEC and conclude the world is swimming in oil. On spreadsheets, that conclusion looks reasonable. In reality, it is dangerously misleading. The oil market today is not oversupplied. It is structurally overexposed — exposed to geopolitical concentration; exposed to fragile logistics; exposed to sanctioned barrels that cannot flow; and exposed to a supply chain that depends far too heavily on a few vulnerable corridors. Markets have mistaken volume for security. What we actually have is a tightly wound global delivery system where disruption risk is embedded into the very barrels that are supposed to provide comfort. And when risk sits behind the supply itself, prices don’t glide higher — they spike violently. Abundance Without Resilience Global oil demand has not stalled. The International Energy Agency continues to project growth of roughly one million barrels per day per year, driven largely by Asia, aviation recovery, and petrochemical feedstocks. Even in a slowing global economy, oil remains the backbone of transport, industry, and manufacturing. At the same time, the United States has become the world’s most dominant producer. According to the Energy Information Administration, U.S. crude output has pushed above 13 million barrels per day — the highest sustained level any country has ever produced. American shale has been the marginal growth engine that kept global balances stable despite declining production in places like Venezuela, Nigeria, and sanctions-hit Iran and Russia. This dual reality — steady demand and high U.S. production — creates the illusion of cushion. But oil markets aren’t secured by how much is pumped. They’re secured by how reliably it can move . . . and that’s where the system is most vulnerable. The Spare Capacity Myth When analysts cite 3 to 5 million barrels per day of spare capacity, they are referring almost entirely to a handful of Persian Gulf producers — Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates chief among them. That capacity is real in a technical sense, but its value as a stabilizer depends on geography. Those barrels must still exit the Gulf. They must still pass through the Strait of Hormuz. They must still rely on the same shipping lanes and insurance markets that collapse first when tensions rise. In other words, the global buffer is sitting inside the very zone where disruption risk is highest. Spare capacity that cannot be delivered is not spare capacity — it is theoretical comfort. Oil markets are not diversified. They are geographically concentrated and politically conditional. Hormuz: Where Overexposure Becomes Systemic Roughly 20 million barrels per day of crude and petroleum liquids transit the Strait of Hormuz — about one-fifth of global consumption. No redundancy exists at scale. Pipelines bypass only a small fraction of flows. Tanker routes have no substitute. When Iran threatens the Strait, markets don’t wait for closure. They price probability. Freight rates rise, insurance premiums surge, cargoes hesitate, buyers hoard, sellers delay, and suddenly a market that looked well-supplied becomes tight overnight — not because oil disappeared, but because delivery became uncertain. This is the defining feature of an overexposed market: reliability shocks masquerade as supply shocks. Venezuela: The World’s Favorite Mirage Barrel Venezuela offers another form of exposure — barrels that exist but can’t stabilize markets. Years of underinvestment and sanctions have hollowed out production capacity and export reliability. Infrastructure is degraded. Blending materials are scarce. Politics override operations. In every oil rally, Venezuela is cited as potential relief . . . In every disruption, it proves incapable of responding in time. Those barrels are stranded not by geology, but by governance. Demand Doesn’t Pause for Geopolitics The world’s most critical sectors — aviation, freight, petrochemicals, military logistics, and industrial production — cannot simply shut off when oil becomes volatile. Demand is rigid where supply is fragile. That mismatch amplifies every disruption. When reliable demand meets unreliable supply geography, prices move sharply because consumption cannot adjust quickly enough to compensate. The market is structurally primed for spikes. The U.S. Surge Question America is often described as the new swing producer. That is true over medium time horizons. Shale can grow faster than conventional projects. Capital can be deployed quickly relative to offshore developments. But shale is not instantaneous. Adding meaningful volumes still takes months. Crews must mobilize, wells must be drilled and completed, and infrastructure must absorb the increase. Even in an aggressive surge, the U.S. might add several hundred thousand barrels per day within a quarter — not millions in weeks. And critically, U.S. barrels do not replace Gulf barrels one-for-one. Refiners can’t seamlessly swamp our heavy sour grades for light shale crude. Export logistics impose bottlenecks and domestic gasoline prices still follow global benchmarks, regardless of U.S. production levels. The United States can soften shocks . . . it cannot eliminate them. The Strategic Petroleum Reserve: A Backstop, Not a Solution The Strategic Petroleum Reserve remains a critical U.S. energy-security tool. Alongside coordinated stockpiles held by International Energy Agency members, emergency release can inject supply quickly, calm markets, and buy time during short-term disruptions. When used decisively and in coordination, they matter. But the Strategic Petroleum Reserve is a backstop, not a solution. The Reserve is finite, and sustained drawdowns weaken future protection. Markets distinguish between emergency stabilization and structural supply, and repeated releases reduce the tool’s signaling power rather than eliminating risk premia. Just as importantly, Strategic Petroleum Reserve barrels do not bypass delivery constraints. Released oil must still move through limited pipelines, reach compatible refineries, and navigate regional bottlenecks. Under the Jones Act, moving crude or products between U.S. ports requires U.S.-flagged vessels — a limited and costly fleet that can slow redistribution in a crisis. International Energy Agency-coordinated releases face similar limits. They work best as temporary shock absorbers, not as substitutes for reliable supply and resilient logistics. Strategic reserves can soften volatility. They cannot resolve the structural exposure created by concentrated supply, chokepoints, and fragile delivery systems — and markets price that reality quickly. Energy Independence ≠ Energy Insulation Even as the world’s largest producer, the United States remains fully exposed to global price formation. American households don’t buy “U.S.-only oil.” They buy products priced off global risk. Allies rely heavily on Gulf supplies. Inflation remains tied to crude volatility. The world’s overexposure becomes America’s economic problem. The Story the Market is Missing What appears to be surplus is actually a convergence of structural vulnerabilities – supply concentrated in politically unstable regions, spare capacity trapped behind narrow chokepoints, sanctioned barrels that cannot reliably reach market, logistics so fragile they now dictate price behavior, and demand that remains stubbornly inflexible in the face of disruption. This is not a resilient system flush with excess oil; it is a precarious one, disguising fragility as comfort. The Real Risk is Reliability The oil market hasn’t build resilience — it has built dependency. And dependency on unstable geography is not a cushion, it’s a trigger. For the United States, energy security must be measured not by how much oil the world produces, but by how much of it can be reliably delivered when crises emerge. Because in oil markets, it’s not the barrel in the ground that matters . . . it’s the barrel that actually shows up. Rick Westerdale has more than 30 years of experience across the federal government as well as in the global energy industry. As a Vice President at Connector, Inc., a boutique government relations and political affairs firm based in Washington, D.C., Rick advises clients on strategy, investment, and policy across healthcare, hydrocarbons, LNG, hydrogen, nuclear, and the broader energy transition.

There are a lot of things that the Left wants you to believe to be true. Bigger government is better government. Higher taxes and unchecked welfare create opportunity. All gays are Democrats . . . at least, that is what the Left wants you to believe — that gay Republicans are a paradox. The truth of the matter is that gay Republicans are everywhere: they are voters, staffers, consultants, appointees, donors, veterans, and business owners. They work on campaigns, serve in government, and help shape policy at the highest levels. The distinction? Gay Republicans don’t wear their sexual orientation as a political identity, and that is exactly why the Left pretends they don’t exist. I know this because I have battled the American political environment as two parts of myself that most see as contradictory: I am gay and I am a Republican . . . and it is long past time for the Left to get over it. I’m done apologizing for being both. That sentence alone is enough to make some people scratch their heads. In polite company, it earns the uncomfortable pause. In liberal circles, it can flip a friendly conversation into a heated tête-à-tête. In some conservative circles, it can draw quiet assumptions before you’ve even stated your case. It’s as if sexual orientation is required to come with a pre-destined voting record, a list of approved opinions, and lifetime membership card to the Democrat Party. And if you decline your membership, it is met with a 180-degree flip from acceptance to demonization. For anyone out there who feels like a dark horse, I have a secret for you: sexual orientation does not bind you to the Democrat Party. Here’s the part the Left never wants to talk about . . . I’m not rare. I’m just quiet — like thousands of others. Gay Republicans refuse to fixate on identity politics. We don’t demand special labels or place ourselves into demographic silos. We believe in doing the work, contributing to the country, and letting our values — not our orientation — speak for themselves. That doesn’t make us invisible. It makes us inconvenient. Because our existence alone destroys the Left’s supposed ownership rights to gay Americans . . . body, mind, and ballot. Being gay determines who you love. It doesn’t tell you what you believe. It doesn’t dictate how you view the Constitution, the role of government in our lives, the meaning of citizenship, or the responsibilities that come with freedom. Yet the radical Left believes otherwise — often with a smug certainty that feels less like inclusion and more like ownership. When you’re gay and Republican, you quickly learn the true meaning of “tolerance” on the Left. It’s conditional. It’s transactional. It’s offered only if you say the right things, vote the right way, and treat their worldview like scripture. Step out of line, and suddenly you’re not just wrong . . . you’re a traitor; you’re self-hating; you’re confused; you’re voting against your people; you’re the Republicans’ token gay; you’re an embarrassment; you’re worse than the straight conservatives, because you’re a supposed defector from the “one true party” for gay people. Does anyone see the perfect irony? The LGB community, which claims to celebrate authenticity and open-mindedness, can be the most vicious toward gay people who think differently. I’m not talking about healthy disagreement — that’s as American as apple pie and baseball. I’m talking about cruelty, personal attacks, social expulsion, and a moral superiority that treats political conformity as a prerequisite for dignity. I’ve seen gay “friends” vanish the moment they realize I don’t sing from the same hymnal. I’ve experienced physical violence from gay men who can’t stand Republicans, let alone gay ones. I’ve felt the subtle pressure to stay quiet, to avoid “making it political,” which is code for “don’t have competing opinions amongst other gays.” And that is the harsh truth about navigating this. It comes with ostracization. Almost like you’re walking through a room full of people who claim to champion being yourself while punishing you for actually doing it. There is a particular loneliness that comes from being treated as an outlier in spaces where you’re told you’re supposed to belong. The best comparison I can think of is similar to how law enforcement officers never sit with their back to the door . . . so they can be fully aware of their surroundings and are prepared to address any threat head-on. But in this case, you start to pick your words a little more carefully. You weight the true cost of honesty. You learn which rooms are safe and which ones aren’t. You develop a strange hyper-awareness, knowing that people who preach acceptance may withhold it the moment you express a conservative view about . . . well . . . anything. And yet, I am still here. Still a Republican. Still gay. Still unwilling to accept the premise that I must convey one truth about myself and bury another to make everyone else happy. What keeps me planted is not a party label, but my values. Steady ones rather than trendy ones. Values that don’t change with the winds or the tides simply because the culture changes. The future of the Republican Party depends on staying consistent with its core principles: family, individual responsibility, love of country, and limited government. Not as buzzwords, but as a moral framework that freedom requires discipline and that a thriving society is built from the bottom up: strong families create strong communities and a citizenry who understands that rights come with responsibilities. None of this clash with being gay. If anything, it clarifies something the country desperately needs to remember sexual orientation does not equal ideology. I can (and do) believe in committed relationships, stable homes, and the social value of family without adopting the belief that government should be the primary architect of our lives. I can (and do) believe in personal freedom while still believing that self-control and responsibility are virtues, not oppressions. I can (and do) love my country — an extraordinary inheritance worth defending and improving — without apologizing for it or my role within it. I can (and do) believe the Constitution is a guardrail, not a suggestion. I can (and do) believe that when government grows, individual liberty shrinks; and that the best solutions are often local and voluntary rather than federal and mandated. And I can (and do) believe, profoundly, that the American experiment only works when citizens are allowed to think independently, speak honestly, and live without intimidation — whether that comes from the state or from social mobs pretending to have moral high ground. The other assumption I reject is the idea that Republicans must choose between being principled or welcoming. The Republican Party does not need to abandon its core to broaden its coalition. It needs to articulate its beliefs in a way that is confident, decent, and serious. A Party that believes in limited government should understand the danger of any institution — government, media, or corporations — that tries to enforce ideological conformity. In fact, one of the most fascinating and underreported realities of the current moment is how many openly gay Republicans hold high-ranking, prestigious roles in President Donald J. Trump’s administration. These are Trump-selected appointees across major departments, including Treasury, State, Energy, the Pentagon, the Small Business Administration, and others. In a city like Washington, D.C. that is both deeply gay and reflexively anti-Trump, these men are serving their country as openly gay and openly Republican for an unapologetically gay-friendly Republican president. That reality alone shatters the lie that the Republican Party is hostile to gay Americans. The Left doesn’t champion gay rights but rather uses gays as a club to destroy their foes on the other side of the aisle while emphatically rejecting those who simply refuse to accept their worldview. Republicans can learn an incredible lesson from President Trump and his bold and effective Administration; they must continue to make room for people like me. Not simply as a checkbox, and certainly not as a talking point, but as fellow Americans who share a belief in liberty and the dignity of individual responsibility. We can have internal debates, sure. We should! But we cannot build a durable majority by demanding uniformity on every personal detail, while the other side demands uniformity on every political thought. This is where I step off my personal soapbox and speak to those like me. To the gay Republicans who vote quietly, work quietly, and believe quietly because you’ve learned it is safer that way . . . I see you. To the gay Republicans who were told to tone it down, stay out of it, or keep politics separate from your personal life . . . that silence was never about civility, it was about control. You do not owe the Left your vote, your voice, or your life. You don’t owe anyone an explanation for believing in limited government, personal responsibility, or love of country. You don’t have to trade your principles for social approval. Republican values don’t require you to deny who you are . . . it simply abandons the idea that being gay is the most interesting thing about you. And if the radical Left “string-of-letters” organizations want to claim the mantle of compassion and inclusion, they should start by practicing it — especially with the gay people who refuse to be politically owned. Navigating this isn’t easy. Being openly gay in conservative circles AND openly Republican in gay ones requires judgment, confidence, and a thick skin. I’ve learned where the land minds are, which battles matter, who to trust, and how to stand firm without becoming a caricature for either side. That perspective isn’t theoretical . . . it’s earned. I’m gay. I’m a Republican. And I am not an exception. I am part of a much larger reality the Left can no longer suppress. And, in a toxic political environment that rewards group think while punishing independent thought, I’ll take the harder path — the honest path — every time. Corey Stevens is a seasoned campaign operative and respected national strategist having worked on successful local, state, and federal races throughout the southwest and western United States. He serves as Director of Accounts at Connector, Inc. — a boutique government relations and political affairs firm in Washington, D.C.
