Why Snowy 2.0 still matters in an age of batteries

The image of a great nation’s energy future sketched on a pub coaster might seem whimsical, but the story behind Snowy 2.0 — conceived that way, as the record reminds us — is no joke. It is one of the most ambitious renewable energy projects in Australia’s history and, despite the dizzying rise of batteries, it still has a clear role to play in our electricity system. As the country grapples with how to keep the lights on while lowering emissions, two competing ideas about storage have taken centre stage. Small, distributed lithium-ion batteries sit on household walls and in city substations; they are fast, modular and extremely useful for shaving peaks and smoothing short-term fluctuations. Large-scale pumped hydro projects like Snowy 2.0 are neither glamorous nor compact. But they were designed for a different purpose: to move and store very large amounts of energy over longer periods and to provide sustained, high-capacity dispatch that can stabilise the grid through prolonged bouts of low renewable output. That difference matters to everyday Australians. A household battery can help reduce a power bill and keep a fridge running through a brief outage. But when a heatwave lasts days, or when wind is low across much of the country for an extended stretch, the grid needs reserves measured not in kilowatt-hours but in gigawatt-hours. Pumped hydro delivers duration and scale that current battery fleets cannot yet match economically. Snowy 2.0 was conceived to provide that capability: to act as a giant, on-demand battery able to support the grid across seasons and to smooth the path for more wind and solar onto the network. Critics are right to scrutinise the project. Ambition should not be an excuse for carelessness. Projects of this size carry cost, environmental and social implications that deserve rigorous oversight. But the debate should be about comparing capabilities, not declaring a winner without context. Batteries and pumped hydro are complementary rather than mutually exclusive. Short-duration technologies will handle one set of problems exceptionally well; long-duration storage will handle others. The task for policymakers is to ensure the mix is cost-effective, resilient and fair. For ratepayers and taxpayers, that means demanding transparency about costs and timelines, and insisting on the best value outcome for the nation. For communities affected by construction, it means meaningful consultation and mitigation. For the energy market, it means clear signals so investors in both batteries and long-duration storage can plan with confidence. We should also remember the broader point behind the pub-coaster origin: big ideas often begin simply, but they require serious, sustained commitment to deliver. If Snowy 2.0 can be reined in where necessary, executed with oversight and integrated sensibly into a diversified storage strategy, it will be a powerful tool in the transition. If not, its failings will be instructive. Ultimately, ordinary Australians want two things from energy policy: secure, affordable power, and progress on climate commitments. Neither batteries nor pumped hydro alone can give them both. The sensible path is a pragmatic portfolio approach that values the strengths of each technology. Snowy 2.0, for all its romance and controversy, remains a key piece of that puzzle.