Let me tell you something that’s been gnawing at me for weeks: the way we talk about energy costs in America is fundamentally broken. Here we are, in 2026, and Duke Energy is once again trying to justify a rate hike that feels less like a necessary investment and more like a corporate tax break in disguise. The latest proposal—a 3.4% to 3.7% annual increase—might seem modest on paper, but when you’re living paycheck to paycheck, that’s not a number. It’s a lifeline being yanked away.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how Duke Energy frames its argument. They claim the hike is needed to maintain reliability and meet future demand. But here’s the kicker: the company just reported nearly $5 billion in profits last year. That’s not a company struggling to stay afloat; that’s a company with a healthy war chest. If they can afford to report such profits, why can’t they absorb some of these costs themselves? I mean, really—when was the last time we saw a utility company voluntarily giving back to consumers instead of passing along every penny of inflation?
The public pushback is understandable. Advocates are pointing out that residential bills have jumped almost 30% since 2017, and now families are facing the grim reality of potential disconnections. This isn’t just about numbers—it’s about human lives. I’ve spoken to people in my own community who’ve had to choose between paying rent and keeping the lights on. When a company can afford to make billions but still demands more from its customers, it’s not just a business decision. It’s a moral one.
And let’s talk about the so-called ‘balance’ Duke Energy claims to strike. Their spokesperson, Kendal Bowman, says they’ve considered affordability. But what does that even mean when the proposed assistance is just $10 million for low-income programs? That’s a drop in the bucket compared to their profits. It’s like giving a drowning man a life preserver made of tissue paper. What many people don’t realize is that this isn’t just about Duke Energy—it’s about how our entire energy infrastructure is built on a model that prioritizes shareholder returns over public good.
Here’s what really bugs me: the argument that the rate hike is in line with inflation. Sure, 3.5% sounds reasonable, but that’s only if you’re not already living on the edge. For seniors on fixed incomes or low-wage workers, that’s not a cost-of-living adjustment—it’s a cost-of-survival increase. The fact that the North Carolina Attorney General is pushing back against this settlement is a sign that even within the system, there’s recognition of this imbalance. But will that be enough to stop it? I doubt it. Politicians are often more afraid of losing corporate backing than they are of losing voters.
If you take a step back and think about it, this isn’t just about Duke Energy. It’s about a broader trend in how we value public services. Utilities aren’t just providers of electricity—they’re gatekeepers of our daily lives. And yet, they operate with an air of entitlement that’s rarely challenged. This raises a deeper question: Who’s really in charge here? The companies, or the people they’re supposed to serve? A detail that I find especially interesting is how the proposed settlement includes specialized customer support for those struggling with bills. But what good is that if the root problem isn’t addressed? You can’t just hand someone a phone number and expect that to solve a systemic crisis.
What this really suggests is that we need a complete overhaul of how energy is regulated and priced. We’re stuck in a cycle where utilities get to dictate terms while consumers are left to pick up the tab. Until we start holding these companies accountable—not just for their profits, but for their social responsibility—we’ll keep seeing proposals like this. And frankly, I’m tired of it. It’s time for a conversation that doesn’t just focus on numbers, but on the real people behind them.
