The repeated failures of geoengineering ban bills in the Kentucky General Assembly reveal a deeper, ongoing power struggle over the state’s legislative priorities. Populist demands for action, strong industrial opposition, and strategic legislative manoeuvres converge each session. Lawmakers introduce bills to "protect the skies." Still, these consistently stall in the powerful Committee on Committees, underscoring the central question: What truly drives decision-making in Kentucky’s legislature—public outcry or industry influence?

Changing the atmosphere is already controversial, but the reasons these bills keep failing and evolving are more complex. This issue extends beyond questions of climate science. It reflects a contest between public sentiment, industrial priorities, and strategic legislative action. What political and economic dynamics influence this debate, and what factors might alter its outcome this session?

To bridge the previous debates with current developments, this article will share some surprising facts about Kentucky’s push to regulate its skies. These points show how an issue that once seemed fringe has become a lesson in political strategy.

The Drafting Error That Quietly Killed the Geoengineering Ban

The real reason the ban kept failing wasn’t just the controversy—it was a drafting error that accidentally threatened Kentucky’s coal industry.

While the 2023 bill was a minimalist one-page document, the 2024 and 2025 versions (HB 506, SB 217) introduced criminal penalties. However, the bills defined the crime as any 'atmospheric polluting activity' involving the 'deliberate release of a contaminant.' Legally, this definition was so broad that it could have applied to the standard emissions of coal-fired power plants, factories, or even crop-dusting aircraft.

This legislative oversight created an uninsurable risk for Kentucky’s largest employers. While groups like the Kentucky Coal Association rarely issue public statements on 'geoengineering,' the legislative record shows the bills were consistently 'soft-killed' in committees that oversee energy and business interests. For example, in 2024, SB 217 was stalled in the Natural Resources & Energy Committee without a hearing.

The most substantial evidence for this industry pushback is the 2026 version of the bill (HB 60). In a clear tactical pivot, the new sponsors added a specific exemption for 'ground-level' sources. Explicitly protecting factories and farms, the 2026 bill finally attempts to bypass the industrial opposition that paralysed previous versions.

The Containment Wall: How the 2026 Bill Protects Big Business

The newest versions, HB 60 and SB 25 for the 2026 session, represent a shift from the earlier bills. After sponsors saw previous attempts blocked because of broad definitions that risked industrial interests, they intentionally revised the language to address this corporate opposition.

The 2026 bills include a new exemption in the definition of the banned "atmospheric polluting intervention. Unlike earlier versions, they now clearly shield against emissions from ground-level sources, such as factories, homes, vehicles, or farms. This adjustment directly responds to industry concerns raised about past proposals.

This exemption acts as a containment wall. It shields factories, power plants, and farms from the law, which will reassure Kentucky’s business leaders. The sponsors know they are not the target. By focusing the ban only on airborne releases, the sponsors make the bill more likely to pass. They can try to regulate the skies without upsetting powerful lobbyists.

With this change in industry exemptions, another key point arises: Lawmakers want to treat geoengineering as a serious felony, not just a minor offence.

The bill’s sponsors have agreed to limit its scope. But they have made the penalties much harsher. The proposed punishment for "criminal atmospheric pollution" in Kentucky is not just a small fine. It is a Class D felony, which could mean 1 to 5 years in prison.

In addition to possible prison time, the bill sets a minimum civil penalty of $500,000 per offence. It also says that every day a violation happens counts as a separate offence.

For comparison, the law that passed in neighbouring Tennessee is very different.

The sponsors are showing they are serious, but the proposed harsh punishments could be a significant hurdle. The substantial financial penalty may cause many moderate lawmakers to hesitate to create a new felony. This reluctance is particularly acute when the government or mainstream science does not recognise the activity they are banning, even though supporters see it as a real threat.

The Rise of Para-environmentalism

The group behind these bills is not a typical, left-leaning environmental group. Scholars call it "para-environmentalism."

This movement is right-wing and populist. It takes up issues like clean air and soil purity. However, it views them with distrust toward the government and groups such as the UN and the World Economic Forum. It mixes worries about public health with strong beliefs in personal freedom and state rights. During an interview with Kentucky Public Radio, Dr Holly Buck, a climate change researcher at the University at Buffalo, says the movement connects with real, though sometimes misdirected, public concerns.

"People see the debate that scientists are having internally about how to pursue research in this field in a responsible way, and — understandably — they filter it through their own worldview and experiences and values. And so what comes out at the end is something like this bill."

This situation creates political tension within Kentucky’s Republican supermajority. The party’s "Liberty" wing listens to the populist base. The "Establishment" wing focuses on protecting businesses. The Establishment worries that passing the bill could damage the state’s reputation and scare away high-tech investments.

The AI Glitch: When the Ban Targeted Artificial Intelligence

A detail that shows the special worries behind this law is that the 2025 version (HB 22) included "Artificial Intelligence" as one of the possible actors that could commit an "atmospheric polluting intervention."

Legally, this clause was redundant; AI is a tool, not an actor with criminal intent. Labelling AI as a potential offender seemed reactionary and unscientific, undermining the bill’s credibility in the eyes of many lawmakers. The inclusion of such language suggests that anti-geoengineering ideas had merged with general fears about new technology.

As a result, sponsors removed all references to AI from the 2026 bill. This revision is part of their broader effort to clean up the legislation—removing fringe ideas and focusing on proposing ideas that appear more serious and professional. It shows the sponsors are learning from prior missteps and aiming for long-term credibility.

In conclusion, a smarter bill now faces a formidable gatekeeper.

Over three sessions, Kentucky’s fight against geoengineering has transformed from a risky, belief-driven effort into a calculated strategy. By addressing threats to industry and refining legal language, the sponsors now directly confront the real barriers to passage: balancing populist demands with industry protection. The bill’s chances rest on whether this sharpened approach can break the longstanding deadlock.

A major obstacle remains: the Kentucky legislative leadership. Through the "Committee on Committees," leaders wield significant power, as this body can quietly block any bill deemed too risky. This gatekeeping role allows leadership to protect members from voting in ways that might alienate populist voters or business donors.

Yet, the sponsors have written a bill that should satisfy lobbyists. Still, Kentucky politics is complicated. Will a smart bill be enough to get past the gatekeepers? The 2026 session will show us.