The Case for Real Autonomy
The energy system is rigged, enabled by government, and greenwashed by media.
Our current energy grid was never designed to empower the public. It was built to enforce dependency. When we hear "off-grid," we often picture a shack in the woods, a solar-powered RV, or a prepper with a generator. We’ve been conditioned to see energy autonomy as fringe or temporary. But that’s by design.
What if being off-grid wasn’t an escape, but a graduation? What if it became the norm—an evolved phase of energy access, not a retreat from it?
Through a web of monopolies, regulations, and false climate promises, our access to energy has become a tool of control. This article reveals the architecture behind that control and makes the case for real autonomy: not through reform, but through refusal, reconstruction, and liberation from the grid.
And in this country, the energy system is doing exactly what it was built to do—keep people dependent.
Not just on fossil fuels.
On the grid. On utility companies. on corporate monopolies that answer to no one but their shareholders. And, on a government that pretends to regulate while protecting the interests of the powerful.
This dependency is framed as normal. Necessary. Even responsible. But look closer, and you’ll see the truth: it’s a mechanism of control.
Utility companies like Duke Energy, PG&E, and Entergy aren’t just resistant to rooftop solar—they’re actively sabotaging it. In states like Florida and North Carolina, they’ve lobbied to slash solar incentives and penalize households for generating more power than they consume. These companies spend millions each year on lobbyists and regulators who make sure energy independence stays just out of reach.
The politicians protecting them? Ron DeSantis remains in power as governor of Florida, continuing to push policies that benefit utility giants while undermining rooftop solar and local energy control. In the Senate, former obstructionists like Joe Manchin and Kyrsten Sinema may be gone, but their roles have been replaced. Senator Katie Britt, often described as a rising star in the GOP, has consistently voted in line with fossil fuel lobbyists while echoing green-sounding platitudes. Meanwhile, corporate-friendly Democrats like Senator Mark Warner continue to quietly protect the interests of energy monopolies while deflecting real structural change. The faces shift. The outcomes don’t.
The regulators? Think of the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission (FERC), which consistently greenlights new fossil fuel infrastructure while slow-walking support for distributed solar. Or state utility commissions, often staffed by former energy executives or political allies with no interest in disrupting the status quo.
And then there’s the tech layer. Tesla, which builds batteries that can’t be repaired or modified without company approval. Sunrun and Vivint, whose contracts often trap low-income families in long-term leases with no equity. Google, Amazon, and Microsoft, whose data centers devour energy while lobbying for greenwashed credits instead of actual reductions.
The money behind it all flows from hedge funds like BlackRock, Vanguard, and State Street, which own massive shares in both fossil fuel companies and clean energy startups—ensuring that no matter which side wins, the oligarchs profit.
And the media outlets shaping public perception? Owned by the same billionaire class. Rupert Murdoch’s empire (Fox News, Wall Street Journal), Comcast (NBC, MSNBC), and Jeff Bezos, who owns The Washington Post, rarely question the energy status quo because they are the status quo.
They control the narrative. These companies don’t just control the infrastructure. Through PR campaigns, investor statements, and media partnerships, they frame themselves as climate champions while locking us deeper into dependence.
In my state of North Carolina, Duke Energy runs glossy ads about their “Net Zero Carbon Future,” but more than 70% of their electricity still comes from coal and gas. Their climate plan includes building new gas plants through 2050! And ensuring decades of fossil fuel profits while using the language of transition to distract the public.
PG&E, the California utility whose equipment helped ignite wildfires that killed dozens, now markets itself as a sustainability leader. They promise solar-friendly policies while lobbying against net metering and delaying community energy programs. Meanwhile, they charge some of the highest rates in the country and threaten to disconnect low-income families who fall behind.
Tesla, once a symbol of clean energy, now actively blocks independent repair of its batteries and locks solar customers into its ecosystem with proprietary hardware. The company touts “freedom from the grid,” but only on its terms.
Google, Amazon, and Microsoft all claim to run on “100% renewable energy,” but that number is deliberately misleading. Most of their data centers run on fossil-heavy regional grids. They purchase renewable energy certificates (RECs), which are just accounting tricks that let them claim someone else’s solar energy as their own.
BP, Chevron, and ExxonMobil now brand themselves as “energy” companies, not oil companies. Their websites feature wind turbines and solar arrays, but their actual capital expenditures remain overwhelmingly in oil and gas. In 2023, ExxonMobil spent less than 1% of its budget on renewables, while investing in carbon capture schemes that serve mostly to justify continued extraction.
Financial giants like BlackRock issue climate pledges while continuing to be top shareholders in oil companies, gas utilities, and pipeline builders. They talk about ESG (Environmental, Social, and Governance) but use it primarily to deflect criticism while protecting their portfolios.
This is how the scam works:
Keep you dependent. Pretend they’re helping you transition. Profit from both.
They talk about sustainability while ensuring that energy generation remains centralized, proprietary, and out of your hands. They swap out gas for lithium but keep the power flowing through the same monopolies. They rebrand fossil fuel investments as “transitional energy” and call it progress. And the government—not separate, but fused with them—rubber stamps every move.
They don’t fear carbon. They fear autonomy. Because autonomy would break the narrative. And the narrative is everything.
Generating your own power isn’t just about reducing a bill. It’s about stepping outside a system that’s been engineered to keep you in line. We often think of energy independence as something niche or extreme—living off-grid in a camper, a cabin, or a solar-powered van. But it doesn’t have to be that way. That image is part of the conditioning.
What if going off-grid stopped being framed as some fringe fantasy for doomsday preppers or hippies? What if it was an upgrade—a next step in civic infrastructure where households graduate from reliance, not retreat from modern life? It removes the need to play by rules written by companies that profit from scarcity. It opens the door to new relationships with land, labor, and community—ones that can’t be monetized or monitored.
One where freedom doesn’t mean the absence of rules. It means the absence of corporate leashes.
That kind of freedom—the real kind—is precisely what the system is designed to suppress. Because when people stop relying on centralized infrastructure, they start asking different questions. They start building different futures.
They stop fearing the government. And when that happens, control starts to slip.
When the government is indistinguishable from corporate power, dependency becomes the currency of rule. We’re told the grid is essential. We’re told it’s the only way to power society. But the grid is not sacred—it’s a tool. And like any tool, it reflects the intentions of those who control it. In the hands of monopolies, it becomes a weapon of compliance—a system built not for resilience, but for profit extraction and surveillance. It wasn’t designed to empower individuals. It was designed to funnel power—both literal and political—through centralized institutions that serve capital above all else.
The grid becomes a safety net—not a lifeline. Something to rely on in moments of transition or crisis, not a permanent tether. But we’re not encouraged to transition. We’re encouraged to stay plugged in forever.
That’s the part they won’t say out loud.
So they make exit difficult.
They write laws that punish it.
They wrap control in the language of efficiency and progress.
And they call it freedom.
But real freedom can’t be billed monthly. It doesn’t come with usage fees. It doesn’t require permission from a utility board.
This is the difference between survival and sovereignty.
If we want to build something that challenges the corporate-government alliance, it won’t come from within their systems. It will come from the outside—from communities that refuse to wait, refuse to ask, and refuse to be managed.
We don’t need new policies from a captured state. We need a different relationship to power itself.
And it starts the moment we stop accepting dependence as inevitable.
Dream Big. Act Bigger.
