California’s Power Shock: How Rising Electricity Rates Are Forcing Families to Choose Between Lights and Food

By Staff Reporter

When Kenya Brown opened her electric bill in Bay Point, California, she thought there must have been a mistake.

The total was $576.37 for a single month.

Brown, a full‑time Walmart cashier and mother of four, had never seen a number that high.

She kept her thermostat modest and limited appliance use, yet the bill demanded more than half her monthly rent.

Faced with a choice between electricity and groceries, she paid for food.

For three winter days her family lived without heat, lights, hot water, or a working stove.

Her children showered and did homework at a relative’s apartment while a teacher organized a fundraiser so the power could be restored.

Brown’s experience is no longer unusual.

Across California, households are confronting electric bills that would have been unthinkable only a few years ago.

In the Antelope Valley, retiree Linda Lynch reported paying nearly $900 a month.

In the Central Valley, Sarah Clifford received a $1,128 bill despite keeping her thermostat at 78 degrees.

Consumer advocates say such stories illustrate a deepening affordability crisis in a state where electricity prices have risen faster than almost anywhere else in the nation.

According to data from the U.S.

Energy Information Administration, the national average residential electricity rate in 2025 is about 18 cents per kilowatt‑hour.

In California, typical rates range from 32 to 34 cents.

Customers of Pacific Gas & Electric pay close to 39 cents, while San Diego Gas & Electric customers face nearly 40 cents per kilowatt‑hour.

Only Hawaii, an island state dependent on imported fuel, is more expensive.

The contrast is striking because Californians use far less electricity than most Americans.

The average California household consumes roughly 500 kilowatt‑hours per month, compared with nearly 900 nationwide.

Yet despite using about 45 percent less power, Californians pay significantly higher monthly bills.

Utility analysts describe the paradox as the result of a unique mix of climate policy, wildfire liability, aging infrastructure, and regulatory decisions that have pushed costs steadily upward.

The pace of increase has been rapid.

In 2020, the average combined gas and electric bill for PG&E customers was about $179 per month.

By early 2025 it had climbed to roughly $300, an increase of nearly 70 percent in five years.

Southern California Edison rates have risen more than 80 percent over the past decade.

PG&E’s average rates have more than doubled.

While most states see annual increases of about 2 percent, California utilities have raised rates by 6 to 9 percent per year, compounding the burden on households.

Much of the increase can be traced to wildfires.

In 2018, a century‑old piece of hardware failed on a PG&E transmission line and ignited the Camp Fire, which destroyed the town of Paradise, killed 85 people, and burned more than 18,000 structures.

PG&E pleaded guilty to 84 counts of involuntary manslaughter and later emerged from bankruptcy with more than $25 billion in settlements and obligations.

Since then, the company has spent an estimated $27 billion on wildfire prevention, insurance, and safety upgrades.

Those costs are recovered through customer rates.

Utility filings show wildfire‑related expenses now account for nearly a quarter of PG&E’s revenue.

At the same time, executive compensation has remained high.

Former chief executive Patricia Poppe earned more than $50 million in 2021 and $17 million in 2023, figures that have drawn criticism from lawmakers and consumer groups.

State officials say many of the investments are necessary to prevent future disasters and modernize an aging grid.

California’s clean‑energy mandates also require utilities to build new transmission lines, expand renewable generation, and upgrade substations.

The transition away from fossil fuels, while central to the state’s climate strategy, has added billions in capital costs that are passed on to ratepayers.

For years, rooftop solar offered a way out.

Under the state’s original net‑metering rules, homeowners who generated excess electricity could sell it back to the grid at the full retail rate, often eliminating most of their monthly bills.

The policy helped make California the nation’s largest residential solar market, with about 1.8 million homes installing panels.

That changed in April 2023, when regulators approved a new compensation system known as Net Energy Metering 3.0.Under the revised rules, utilities pay roughly 75 percent less for exported solar power, sometimes just a few cents per kilowatt‑hour during midday hours when generation is highest.

The shift lengthened the typical payback period for solar systems from four to seven years to eight to fifteen years.

Solar installations fell sharply, and industry groups estimate more than 17,000 jobs were lost statewide.

Today, homeowners who want to make solar financially viable are encouraged to add battery storage so they can use their own power at night.

A typical battery system adds about $15,000 to the cost of an installation, putting the technology out of reach for many middle‑ and low‑income households.

Another major change is now arriving in the form of fixed monthly charges.

Beginning in 2025 and phasing in through 2026, California utilities will add a base fee of about $24 per month to most residential accounts, regardless of usage.

Regulators approved the charge in exchange for slightly lower per‑kilowatt‑hour rates, arguing it would stabilize utility revenues and fund grid maintenance.

Critics say it penalizes customers who conserve energy or invested in solar, while offering little relief to families already struggling.

The impact falls hardest on low‑income residents.

Studies show California households with lower incomes spend about 4.4 percent of their earnings on electricity, nearly three times the share paid by wealthier residents.

About one in five households is behind on utility bills, and unpaid balances peaked at $2.6 billion in 2023.

Calls to assistance hotlines have surged, and nonprofit agencies report growing demand for emergency grants to keep the lights on.

Some relief programs exist.

The state’s CARE program provides discounts of up to 35 percent for qualifying households, and about three million customers are enrolled.

But advocates say many families do not qualify or are unaware of the assistance, leaving millions exposed to rising prices.

Compared with other states, California’s position looks increasingly stark.

In Texas and Florida, average electricity rates hover around 15 cents per kilowatt‑hour.

In Nebraska, the cheapest state, rates are about 11 cents.

Analysts cite several reasons: abundant local natural gas, competitive retail markets, and the absence of wildfire liability.

Over a decade, the difference in rates can amount to tens of thousands of dollars for a typical family.

State regulators acknowledge the strain but caution that costs are unlikely to fall dramatically.

The California Public Utilities Commission has approved a modest rate reduction for PG&E customers in early 2026 as some wildfire recovery charges expire.

Beyond that, officials project annual increases of 3 to 5 percent as utilities continue hardening the grid, expanding renewable energy, and preparing for electric vehicles and heat‑driven demand.

For families like the Browns, the projections offer little comfort.

Kenya Brown’s bill was eventually paid with help from donations, but the next one is already on its way.

Consumer advocates warn that without broader reforms — such as restructuring wildfire liability, limiting executive compensation, or spreading infrastructure costs more evenly — electricity could become unaffordable for a growing share of Californians.

“The system is pushing the burden onto the people least able to pay,” said one utility policy analyst.

“We are asking working families to finance decades of mistakes, climate investments, and corporate obligations all at once.”

As summer approaches, demand is expected to rise again.

For millions of households, opening the next utility bill may bring the same question Kenya Brown faced: whether keeping the lights on is worth more than putting food on the table.