Energy & Environmental Law

How Connecticut Pays for Its Green Bank

About this blog: Irving Steel is a law student, not a licensed attorney. Nothing on this site is legal advice. Reading this blog does not create an attorney-client relationship. For advice about your specific situation, consult a licensed lawyer in your jurisdiction. This blog reflects personal views and is not affiliated with any law school, firm, or employer.

Connecticut created the nation’s first state-level green bank in 2011, and the average description of it stops at “quasi-public agency that finances clean energy.” That description is accurate and also tells you nothing about where the money actually comes from, which is the more interesting question, and the one that nearly got the whole thing defunded six years later.

What statute created the Green Bank?

Public Act 11-80, effective July 1, 2011, is the statute. It restructured what had been the Connecticut Clean Energy Fund into a new quasi-public entity, originally named the Clean Energy Finance and Investment Authority, since renamed the Connecticut Green Bank. “Quasi-public” is doing real work in that sentence: the bank is a creature of statute with a public mission and a board that includes state officials, but it is not a state agency drawing from the general fund, and it is not a private bank. It sits in the same third category Connecticut has used before for entities like the Connecticut Housing Finance Authority: public purpose, off-budget financing.

Where does the money come from if not general tax revenue?

Two sources, both tied to the electric grid rather than to appropriations. The first is a public benefits charge, a small per-kilowatt-hour fee embedded in every Connecticut electric bill, a mechanism inherited directly from the old Clean Energy Fund. The second is the state’s share of proceeds from the Regional Greenhouse Gas Initiative, the multistate cap-and-invest program in which power plants buy pollution allowances at quarterly auctions. Neither is a tax in the ordinary sense. Both are charges tied to the electricity system the Green Bank is meant to change, which is either an elegant piece of policy design or a target, depending on which legislative session you ask.

What happened when the legislature tried to redirect that money?

Twice. In 2016, a budget proposal swept roughly $21 million from the bank and related energy efficiency programs, part of a larger $42 million sweep that also touched RGGI proceeds. In 2017 the fight was sharper: a Republican-passed budget proposed cutting the Green Bank by $13 million in each of fiscal years 2018 and 2019, and diverting another $10 million per year in RGGI proceeds on top of that, a combined $46 million reduction over two years.

Senate Majority Leader Bob Duff opposed the 2017 version publicly, and the number he put on the record answers the funding-mechanism question better than the statute does: for every public dollar the Green Bank spends, it draws roughly eight dollars of private investment into Connecticut’s clean energy market. By his account at the time, the bank had already mobilized about a billion dollars in private capital and generated an estimated 13,000 job-years of activity since 2011. Cutting the public dollar, on that math, does not just remove a dollar of public spending. It removes the multiple attached to it.

Why does the funding mechanism matter more than the mission statement?

Because it explains why these fights keep recurring. A public benefits charge and a share of RGGI auction proceeds are both revenue streams that exist by statute, not a dedicated tax the legislature has to defend on its own terms every year. That makes them durable in ordinary years and exposed in tight ones: money attached to electric bills is easy money to notice when a budget gap needs closing, and comparatively easy to defend when someone can put a leverage ratio on it. Connecticut’s Green Bank has survived two attempts at exactly that trade so far.

Public Act 11-80’s basic structure, RGGI’s auction mechanism, and Senator Duff’s 2017 floor argument do not require taking a side on whether the state should be in the business of leveraging ratepayer charges into private clean energy investment. They just explain, with actual numbers, why that argument keeps happening.

I am a law student, not a lawyer. Nothing here is legal advice.

Irving Steel

Irving Steel

Irving Steel is a second-year law student at Roger Williams University School of Law who writes in plain language about how the law works and who it affects. Before law school he studied international relations, led business ventures in the U.S. and China, and earned a public health degree. He spent his 1L spring break doing pro bono legal work with the Sugar Law Center in Detroit.