About a year ago I wrote about the sketchy nature of carbon credits (or “offsets”), which are purchased by people or entities whose actions generate CO2 emissions they’d like to offset. Those actions would include Taylor Swift’s private air travel, electric power generation, and many other activities whose participants wish to have “greenwashed”.

One short digression before I get started: see those black clouds of CO2 in the image above? Well, carbon dioxide doesn’t really look like that. In fact, CO2 is transparent. Trees breathe it! Visually, it’s less obvious than the greenhouse gas known as water vapor in those puffy white clouds, but virtually every image you’ll ever see on-line depicting CO2 emissions shows dark, roiling smoke. I just hate to spoil the scary effect, but there it is.

Back to carbon credits, which help fund projects that offset CO2 emissions (at least theoretically), such as planting new forest acreage (which would absorb CO2 … someday) or preventing deforestation. Other types of offset activities include investment in renewable energy projects and carbon capture technology. So, for example, if a utility’s power generation emits CO2, the creation or preservation of some amount of forested acreage can serve as a carbon sink adequate to offset the utility’s emissions. Net zero! Or so the utility might claim.

If only it were that simple! Paul Mueller explains that the incentive structure of these arrangements is perverse. What if credits are sold on the basis of supposed efforts to preserve forests that were never at risk to begin with? In fact, the promise of revenue from the sale of credits may be a powerful incentive to falsely present forested lands as targets for development. For that matter, cutting forestland for lumber makes more sense if it can be replanted immediately in exchange for revenue from the sale of carbon credits. And newly planted acreage won’t lead to absorption of much CO2 for many years, until the trees begin to mature. Then there are the risks of forest fires or disease that could compromise a forest’s ultimate value as a carbon sink.

Whether through fraud, calamity, or mismanagement, the sad truth is that projects serving as a basis for credits have done far less to reduce deforestation than promised. On top of that, another issue plaguing carbon markets for some time has been double counting of offsets, which can occur under several circumstances. Ultimately, CO2 emissions themselves may have done more to promote the growth of forests than purchases of carbon credits, because CO2 gives life to vegetation!

Obviously, the purchase of offsets raises the incremental cost of any project having CO2 emissions. The incidence of this added cost is borne to a large extent by consumers, especially because power demand is fairly inelastic. The craziness of offset logic may even dictate the purchase of offsets when a plant emitting more CO2 (e.g., coal) is replaced by a plant emitting less (natural gas), because the replacement would still emit carbon!

Some carbon offsets help pay for the construction of renewable power facilities like wind and solar farms. These renewable power facilities contribute to the power supply, of course, but wind turbines and solar farms typically operate at a small fraction of nameplate capacity due to the intermittency of wind and sunshine. Thus, these offsets are far less than complete. And from that low rate of renewable utilization we can deduct another fraction: periods of actual utilization often occur when no one wants the power, and while utilities can sell that excess power into the grid, it doesn’t replace other power at those times and it therefore doesn’t contribute to reductions in CO2 emissions.

Claims of achieving net zero are very much in vogue in the corporate world, and for a few related reasons. One is that they help keep activists and protesters away from the gates. There are, however, plenty of activists serving on corporate boards, in the executive suite, and among regulators.

The purchase of carbon offsets by “socially responsible corporations” might put stakeholder pressure on competitors who are “insufficiently green”. That would help to compensate for the higher costs imposed by offsets. After all, carbon credits are not cheap. In fact, smaller competitors might struggle to fund additional outlays for the credits.

Finally, claims of carbon neutrality also help with another constituency: “woke” investors. “Achieving” net zero boosts a firm’s so-called ESG score, presumed to reflect soundness in terms of environmental (E) and social (S) responsibility, as well as the quality of internal governance (G). With firms jockeying for ESG improvements, they help keep the offset charade going.

There is no common standard for calculating ESG, and there is considerable variance in ESG scores across rating firms. This should be cause for great skepticism, but too many investors are vulnerable to suggestions that screening on ESGs can enable both social responsibility and better returns. Sadly, they are sometimes paying higher fees for the privilege. The ESG fad among these investors might have helped fulfill hopes of greater returns for a while, but the imagined ESG advantage may have faded.

Carbon credits or offsets are plagued by bad incentives that often lead to wasteful outlays if not outright fraud. At present, they generally fail to reduce atmospheric CO2 as promised and they contribute to higher costs, which are passed on to consumers. They also serve as an unworthy basis for higher ESG scores, which are something of a sham in any case.

There have been efforts underway to improve the quality and legitimacy of carbon offsets. Some of this is voluntary due diligence on the part of purchasers. The effort also includes various NGOs and regulators. Ultimately, the push for quality is likely to push the price of offsets upward dramatically. Perhaps offsets will become more credible, but they won’t come cheap. The cost of achieving net zero targets will largely come out of consumers’ pockets, and those net zeros will still be nominal at best.