Hawaii's Longshot for Governor Wants Weed, Solar Power, and No Government at All

On a muggy afternoon near Waikiki Beach late this past July, dozens of board-shorted dudes, lobster-faced retirees, stressed-out parents, iPad-obsessed kids and all other manner of package vacationer waited for their tour buses under the tropical sun.

My photographer friend Brody and I were also waiting for our ride to arrive. But instead of an air-conditioned bus, we kept watch for a pick-up truck driven by Jeff Davis, a libertarian solar installer and AM radio talk show host running for Hawaii governor this November.

Davis isn't what you'd call a frontrunner in the race. His campaign lacks funding, and his hardline libertarian views aren't likely to gain a huge amount of traction in Hawaii. (Five of the seven state governors in its history have been Democrats.) But one part of Davis's platform definitely resonates locally: His ardent support for solar power and a desire to cut Hawaii's reliance on imported fossil fuels.

It's common knowledge that our reliance on oil, coal, and gas have a devastating effect on the environment. For example, if we continue to melt the Arctic by burning climate-warming fossil fuels, "we're fucked," as climatologist Dr. Jason Box recently told Motherboard.

Yet far fewer people realize how big an economic burden fossil fuels impose. The world spent $1.7 trillion in 2011 subsidizing oil, coal and gas, the International Monetary Fund estimates. Few places spend more of their wealth on fossil fuels than Hawaii. Isolated in the South Pacific, the state burns oil to get 72 percent of its electricity, and paid over $5 billion last year to import it.

Davis thinks that's totally insane. The tropical sun that blazes down on Hawaii  the majority of the year comes free of charge. For the past 24 years, he's made his living installing solar panels on people's roofs. But Davis is no gentle hippie. An ardent libertarian with a conservative bent, Davis represents a growing counterpoint to the stereotype that clean energy is only for liberal environmentalists.

In Waikiki, his pickup truck pulled over to the curb, and Brody and I squeezed into a single passenger seat. "Brah," Davis said, turning to me, "you are in the third world right now. This is the democratic socialist banana republic of Hawaii." He swigged an orange-colored drink, and then threw the plastic container out the window.

We drove north up Paoakalani Avenue with Brody practically sitting on my lap. "Can you wrap that seatbelt around your shoulder," Davis asked, "because what we're doing right now is illegal." He swung the truck left on Ala Wai Boulevard and pulled into a parking lot where a large Hawaiian man was smoking.

"That's blind Mike," Davis said. "He's an old-school bass player." Davis jumped out of the truck and handed Mike a CD of guitar songs he'd recently recorded. Mike walked up to the passenger window. "What do you see?" Davis said. "I can't see shit," Mike replied.

As we blasted down the Lunalilo Freeway, Davis kept interrupting our chat to point out houses and buildings covered with solar panels. Hawaii has tried to wean itself off oil since at least 1976, when it began offering tax incentives for solar energy.

Like much of the rest of the country, the surge in solar interest in the oil-crunched 70s languished in the intervening decades, as fossil fuel prices remained relatively stable. But by 2010 Hawaiians were paying three to four times the US average for their electric bills, due to the high cost of burning imported oil.

So as the price of photovoltaic solar panels began radically dropping, Davis explained, Hawaii became the first state in America where solar energy was cheaper than fossil fuels. "Boom," he said.

From 2008 to 2014, the number of rooftop solar systems in Hawaii grew from 850 to over 42,000. Honolulu is now America's solar capital, with more solar panels per capita than any other US city.

By this point Davis had parked his truck in a Pearl City suburb. Brody and I followed him into a backyard and then up a ladder onto a scalding hot rooftop, where two employees of Kamiyama Solar, Davis' firm, were bolting down solar panels that looked like big blue dominos. Yet business these days for Davis wasn't great.

Worried that too much rooftop solar could destabilize the electric grid, cause blackouts, or  raise costs for other consumers, the state utility, Hawaiian Electric Co. (or HECO), in September 2013 began forcing firms like Davis' to get its permission before installing any new rooftop panels.

In the first six months of 2014, the number of new permits for solar projects  dropped by 43 percent year-over-year. Some Oahu solar companies had seen their sales drop over 90 percent.

"Explosive growth" in solar, HECO's Jim Alberts recently explained to Greentech Media, "is creating unprecedented safety and reliability challenges." He apologized for slowing down the industry. "We know how frustrating it is for everyone," Alberts said.

Davis wasn't just frustrated, he was furious. "It's conceivable these idiots could shut down the entire industry and send us all to the unemployment office," he said.

Back in his truck, we headed northeast on the John A. Burns freeway through Oahu's jagged green mountains. Davis provided an alternate theory about HECO's motivations. "The utility is pissed," he said, about dozens of small solar installers like him stealing its customers. "It wants to suck the blood out of our profits."

Suddenly Davis stopped in a Safeway parking lot. "Okay, you guys gotta get out," he said. Davis was going to meet a potential solar customer just down the road, and didn't want Brody and I to screw up the deal.

"I'll be back in 30 minutes," he promised. It took more like 50, but he did return. We waited a few minutes more as Davis bought a bottle of red wine and a to-go container of spicy ahi tuna.

Headed back to Honolulu, he admitted his chances of becoming Hawaii's first-ever libertarian governor in this November's election are slim.

"I've got $240 in my campaign chest," he said. "Winning would be fucked-up incredible."

It's a blunt statement, but a fair assessment; Davis hasn't made a significant showing in any statewide polls. Given that the relatively unknown David Ige just defeated incumbent governor Neil Abercrombie in last Saturday's Democrat primary, the race has opened up, but Davis is fighting against far better funded, slicker candidates.

So what would Davis do as governor, besides advocate for solar? "If I'm elected," he said, between bites of tuna, "we're gonna legalize marijuana and treat it like wine. You'll be smoking pot in the governor's mansion."

Davis also vowed to take corporate money out of elections, provide relief to Hawaii's homeless, limit the use of GMOs, boost locally grown food and, oh yes, get government the hell out of people's lives.

Entering Honolulu, we drove to the squat headquarters of KGU 760 AM, where Davis, known to listeners as "The Solar Guy," hosts a one-hour talk show each weekday.

In the studio, he strummed a small guitar and sang in a mock falsetto, "Why can't we all get along?" before cracking up with laughter. On-air, Davis launched into several diatribes about Hawaii's solar slowdown. He also interviewed the head of an airplane ad firm who'd agreed to fly a banner over Honolulu promoting Davis' bid for governor. "This will be on the fucking news baby!" he said in a commercial break.

After the show was finished, he agreed to drive Brody and I back to our hotel near Waikiki Beach. On the way Davis lit up a cigarette, and, while we idled in traffic, handed some change to a homeless person on the side of the Lunalilo Freeway.

Better days could soon be coming for solar companies like Davis'. In late April, Hawaii's Public Utilities Commission ordered HECO, the state utility, to speed up the approvals process for Hawaiians who want to get new rooftop solar panels installed.

"The commission basically said HECO's plan stinks and it needs to go back to the drawing board," Davis explained. The new plan was due by the end of August. In the meantime, public support for rooftop solar is at all time highs. Ninety-four percent of Hawaiians want more of it, a Honolulu poll suggested this spring.

What I'd learned riding around with this libertarian solar installer for the past five hours was that pushing for solar power was not really a question of political ideology or even environmental concern, but rather compelling economics. Make clean energy the cheapest option for people, and suddenly everybody wants it.

"Hawaii is at the bleeding edge of this shift," the Rocky Mountain Institute's Virginia Lacy later told me. By 2020 solar energy may be cheaper than fossil fuels in nearly every U.S. state, notes Ernst & Young. Some states—like California, Arizona, and Georgia—are starting to face similar challenges to Hawaii: a public that demands cheaper, cleaner energy, and utilities unsure what role to play in providing it.

"Renewable energy is the future, obviously," Davis said, as we turned towards Waikiki. Near my hotel, the only space to park was in front of a bright yellow fire hydrant. "Should I park here?" Davis wondered out loud. "I'm thinking I should park here."

This report was funded in part by a grant from the Solutions Journalism Network.