At a conference on “Energy, Economic Growth, and the Environment,” hosted by Resources for the Future in Washington D.C. in April of 1971, Philip  Sporn, chief of American Electric Power, presented himself to the crowd as a realist.

Joel Darmstader¹, an RFF analyst, had prepared a packet of information on energy consumption trends and patterns in which he predicted energy usage of 190 quads in the year 2000. Sporn distanced himself from that number.

“In my opinion, the projections of U.S. energy consumption for the end of this century cited by Joel Darmstadter overstate the likely rate of growth,” he said. “I believe the requirements are likely to be 20-25 percent less—152,000 trillion BTU of total energy input…”

At the time, the United States was using 68 quadrillion BTU, or in Wonk, 68 quads (the term denoting quadrillion BTUs and beloved by energy nerds).

But, Sporn noted, “my lower projections will not satisfy those who believe with David Inglis” that American energy consumption increases could be held to “60 percent instead of 100 percent.” A sixty percent increase would yield year 2000 energy consumption of about 109 quads.

“I doubt that it is in the best interests of the American people to adopt Professor Inglis’s program for limiting energy growth,” Sporn warned. “Since every projection of population, GNP, and industrial production indicates major increases in total energy use, electric energy use, and per capita use, I shall discuss the impacts of environmental costs on the program of expansion and growth as I visualize that growth.”

In other words, Sporn dismissed Inglis. He sideswiped him, played the it’ll ruin the economy card, and told the audience he was going to talk about something else entirely. Inglis wacky ideas about energy weren’t even worth discussing. Who could blame him? Every projection called for major increases because from 1900 through 1970, average annual energy growth was over 3%.

So, who was right? The energy analyst, the utility executive, or the physicist-turned-professor activist?

As it turns out, Inglis was. By a mile. And they all — even Inglis the Bold — missed high. American energy usage is 2000 was actually a mere 99 quads. Last I checked, no one was complaining about how the 90s were a period of hairshirted energy restrictions (Ford Explorer, McMansion) or one of economic destruction. Indeed, the time, particularly the latter half of the decade, is notable precisely for the nation’s strong economic growth.

What’s the moral of this story?

We’re terrifically bad at imagining our energy futures. And we’re terrifically good at imagining the knock-on effects of projections made decades out. This or that is going to happen with supply or demand, ERGO, what I want is the path that must be taken.

It’s great for getting what you want in the present, but it’s a terrible way to peer, however murkily, into the future.

Inglis got much closer to reality because he didn’t just believe what the curves — every projection! — told him. He considered the social circumstances underlying those realities and came up with a nuanced and forward-looking picture of what was attainable in the world. Demand could be altered and shaved and shaped. Of course, he also got lucky as the sociopolitically precipitated energy crises helped reset demand expectations. But the American people proactively helped, too, by preventing utilities from executing the grow-and-build strategies that required energy demand growth.

1. I don’t point out Darmstadter’s forecasting miss here to impugn his work generally. He strikes me as a careful and thorough observer of energy issues. RFF, as an organization, has often made interesting and groundbreaking analyses, too. Lee Erickson, in reviewing energy forecasting methodologies in the 60s for the book Energy and Human Welfare noted that RFF analysts were the first to “explicitly consider factors such as the impact of insulation improvement on space heating requirements and of the rates of appliance saturation on residential electricity demand.” Which seems very sensible.