I’m a Long Islander. This place is more than where I live; it’s part of who I am. My bacon, egg and cheese comes from L.I. Bagel Cafe. Growing up, I spent summers at Tobay with my family, and now I spend beach days in Long Beach with my own kids. We take day trips to the East End, both the North and South forks, and we explore quaint villages along the North Shore.
Life here is incredible. The cultural capital of the world is a short train ride away, and we have some of the best public schools in the country. It's hard to want for more.
But every month I open the electric bill and feel a little less sure we can afford to stay.
Mine isn’t a unique story. Long Island has some of the highest electricity costs in the country, and the bills keep climbing. All of my high school friends have moved away for various reasons, but a common denominator is the high cost of living here. This is the conversation taking place at every kitchen table from Mineola to Montauk.
So when I read another op-ed in this paper warning about battery energy storage on Long Island — usually framed as something foreign, risky or driven by outsiders — I get frustrated. Because the people writing those pieces don’t seem to be looking at the bill in my mailbox. And they don’t seem to be reading what New York’s grid operator has been saying.
In October, the New York Independent System Operator, the independent nonprofit that runs the state’s electric grid, warned that reliability margins on Long Island are projected to fall short beginning in 2027 unless new resources come online. A follow-up report a few weeks later warned of “significant reliability shortfalls” across the state within the next decade if planning and investment don't accelerate now.
Here's what battery storage actually does about it. When demand on the grid spikes, like on a brutal August afternoon or during a cold snap in February, the system has to call on its most expensive resources to keep the lights on. On Long Island, that means firing up old fossil fuel-run peaking power plants that operate only a handful of days a year, but cost LIPA customers close to half a billion dollars annually to keep on standby.
A study found that replacing a meaningful share of Long Island’s peaker plants with energy storage could save LIPA customers nearly $400 million while improving air quality across the Island.
Energy storage is how you avoid that cost. Batteries charge when power is cheap and abundant — overnight, on windy days, when the new offshore wind projects start delivering — and discharge when the grid is stretched thin. Instead of paying premium prices for premium peaker power, ratepayers get the cheaper electricity the batteries stored earlier.
I work in this field. I’m an advocacy manager for the Alliance for Clean Energy New York, so people sometimes assume I’m pushing storage because of where I work. The truth is the opposite. I work in clean energy because I believe in the science that is behind combating climate change, and I want my children to have a better environment to live, play and raise their families in. The added benefit of the work I do is helping my family not get priced out of living on Long Island.
Battery storage isn’t a climate luxury or an experiment. Texas has already built hundreds of projects that are operating today, saving ratepayers money and steadying the grid. New York shouldn’t wait. Battery storage is cheaper to build than new power plants or transmission lines, it strengthens grid reliability, and it eases the pressure on monthly electric bills. It’s safe and effective and a common-sense answer to the affordability and reliability problems families are living with right now.
The opposition to storage on Long Island has been loud, but they are spreading misinformation. The case for it deserves to be heard too, by the people who actually live here and pay these bills, rooted in facts and not baseless claims that ignore the science.
Nick Guariglia is an advocacy manager of the New York Offshore Wind Alliance, a project of the Alliance for Clean Energy New York.
