The Surplus That Nobody Uses
India added a record 18 gigawatts (GW) of renewable energy capacity in 2023, pushing its total to over 130 GW. Solar photovoltaic (PV) and wind now account for roughly 30% of installed power generation. Yet in states like Gujarat, Rajasthan, and Tamil Nadu, grid operators routinely curtail or switch off renewable plants because the transmission network cannot carry the power to distant demand centres. In 2022, the Central Electricity Authority (CEA) reported curtailment rates of 5% to 10% in these states. Industry executives call this 'wasted' energy. ReNew Power's chairman, Sumant Sinha, has described curtailment as the single biggest operational risk for renewable developers. But the word 'wasted' hides a more troubling question: wasted for whom?
Energy Poverty in the Shadow of Plenty
While megawatts sit idle in sunny Rajasthan, millions of rural households in Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, and Jharkhand still endure daily load shedding of four to eight hours. The national average per capita electricity consumption is about 1,200 kilowatt-hours (kWh), but states like Bihar consume less than 400 kWh per person. This disparity is not accidental. Distribution companies (DISCOMs) in poorer states lack the capital to buy expensive renewable power or upgrade their own networks. Instead, they ration supply to low-paying rural customers. The same DISCOMs often raise tariffs for industrial and commercial users to cover losses, pushing up the cost of production. When renewable energy is curtailed, the lost generation is not redirected to dark villages. It simply disappears. The waste narrative, framed as a technical glitch, masks a political choice: who gets connected and who stays in the dark.
Land Grabs in the Desert
To fix the transmission bottleneck, the Indian government plans to build 50,000 kilometres of new high-voltage lines by 2030. Much of this infrastructure will cut through Gujarat's Kutch district and Rajasthan's Jaisalmer and Barmer regions. These areas are home to pastoralist communities such as the Rabaris and Maldharis, who hold traditional grazing rights under the Indian Forest Act of 1927 and the Forest Rights Act of 2006. Solar parks and transmission corridors require thousands of hectares. In Kutch, villagers from Dhokda and Bhuj have protested against land acquisition for a 2,000 MW hybrid park. They complain that compensation is paid at government-calculated rates, not market value, and that promised jobs never materialise. A 2021 study by the Centre for Science and Environment (CSE) found that only 15% of displaced families in Rajasthan's solar zones received any skill training. The green transition, in practice, often repeats the extraction patterns of the coal era.
Coal Belt Workers Face an Uncertain Exit
India's coal sector employs over 1.5 million people directly, mostly in Jharkhand, Odisha, Chhattisgarh, and West Bengal. Another 3 million work in related transport, construction, and informal mining. As renewable energy displaces coal-fired generation, these workers face economic displacement without a national just transition plan. The Ministry of Coal has no dedicated fund for retraining. In Dhanbad, the heart of the Jharkhand coalfield, local unions report that contract labourers are being laid off without notice. The same region suffers from severe air pollution: PM2.5 levels often exceed 200 micrograms per cubic metre, causing respiratory disease. Closing coal plants would improve health, but no one has asked the miners what they want. A 2022 survey by the Just Transition Research Centre at IIT Kanpur found that 78% of coal workers would accept a shift to renewable jobs if guaranteed equal pay and pension. Without such guarantees, the energy transition becomes a transfer of hardship from one set of workers to another.
The Broken Promise of $100 Billion
Developed nations pledged $100 billion per year in climate finance by 2020 under the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC). That target was missed. As of 2023, actual mobilised funds reached only $83 billion, and much of it came as loans, not grants. India needs an estimated $200 billion to modernise its grid and build storage. Without concessional international capital, India's renewable expansion is financed by domestic tariffs and public debt. The result is higher electricity prices for everyone, but especially for the poor. The principle of Common But Differentiated Responsibilities (CBDR), enshrined in the 1992 Rio Earth Summit, is not just a legal phrase. It means that rich countries, which have emitted 50% of historical CO2, should pay for the transition in the Global South. When they do not, India's lowest-income citizens subsidise the climate action of the world's wealthiest. That is climate injustice measured in monthly bills.
The Hidden Bill for Curtailed Power
When a solar plant is curtailed, the developer does not lose all its revenue. Most power purchase agreements (PPAs) include capacity charges or must-run status provisions that guarantee payment for available capacity, not actual generation. The DISCOM still pays for the unused electricity. To recover this cost, the DISCOM raises tariffs for retail consumers. In Maharashtra, the state electricity regulatory commission approved a 7% tariff hike in 2023, partly citing renewable curtailment costs. For a low-income household earning 10,000 rupees a month, an extra 200 rupees on the electricity bill means less food or medicine. The waste, in other words, is not just physical. It is financial, and it lands on the poorest ratepayers while developers and lenders remain protected. A truly efficient system would store the surplus or send it to deficit areas, but storage is expensive and transmission is slow. So the bill arrives at the kitchen table.
Regional Inequality Becomes Permanent
Renewable energy in India is concentrated in a few resource-rich states. Gujarat, Rajasthan, Tamil Nadu, and Karnataka host 70% of installed solar and wind capacity. These states benefit from land, sunshine, and wind, but also from better grid infrastructure. Poorer states like Bihar, Uttar Pradesh, and Odisha have weak transmission and little renewable generation. They must import power from distant states, paying transmission charges and losses. The current system of interstate transmission charges (ISTS) waives fees for renewable energy until 2025, but after that, importing states will pay more. This creates a two-tier electricity market: renewable-rich states attract industry with cheap power, while renewable-poor states lose investment. The Green Energy Corridor project aims to connect these regions, but construction is slow. In the meantime, regional inequality hardens. A farmer in Bihar pays more for unreliable power than a factory in Gujarat pays for surplus solar. Technical fixes alone will not address that imbalance.
The Unsettled Account of Transition
India's renewable energy boom is real, but its benefits are not shared. Curtailed electrons do not light rural homes. Transmission lines displace pastoralists. Coal workers lose livelihoods without retraining. International climate finance remains a broken promise. And the gap between renewable-rich and renewable-poor states widens. A just transition requires more than building solar parks and high-voltage lines. It demands land rights for forest dwellers, retraining funds for coal miners, and unconditional grants from developed nations. Without these, India's green energy paradox will persist: growing generation capacity alongside growing energy poverty. The waste is not just in the grid. It is in the political choices that decide who counts as a stakeholder and who remains invisible.
