You’re out of free articles.
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
Sign In or Create an Account.
By continuing, you agree to the Terms of Service and acknowledge our Privacy Policy
Welcome to Heatmap
Thank you for registering with Heatmap. Climate change is one of the greatest challenges of our lives, a force reshaping our economy, our politics, and our culture. We hope to be your trusted, friendly, and insightful guide to that transformation. Please enjoy your free articles. You can check your profile here .
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Subscribe to get unlimited Access
Hey, you are out of free articles but you are only a few clicks away from full access. Subscribe below and take advantage of our introductory offer.
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Create Your Account
Please Enter Your Password
Forgot your password?
Please enter the email address you use for your account so we can send you a link to reset your password:
Why Spencer Gore decided it was time for Bedrock Materials to close up shop.

It wasn’t too long ago that the battery world was abuzz over sodium-ion batteries and their potential to be a cost-effective domestic competitor to the Chinese-dominated lithium-ion industry. The prevalence of sodium and the early-stage sodium-ion supply chain seemed to give the U.S. a shot at developing the next big battery for electric vehicles and energy storage systems.
But this past weekend, a promising sodium-ion startup called Bedrock Materials announced that it was shutting down and returning most of its $9 million seed funding to investors. The reason, according to CEO Spencer Gore? Its business model no longer made sense.
“We were responding to a very unique moment in the history of the battery industry,” Gore explained to me about his decision to start the company, which made cathode materials for sodium-ion batteries, in 2023. “Lithium prices had gone up about 10-fold, and so had other battery minerals by lesser degrees.” Experts predicted that the world was in for a long-term lithium shortage. Then the opposite happened: Lithium producers rapidly ramped up supply at the same time EV demand growth slowed, leading to oversupply and a 90% drop in price.
Before all of that happened, Bedrock saw the EV market as a good bet. Automakers were telling Gore that their first priority was lowering costs, and sodium-ion batteries seemed well positioned to help with that. The EV industry was also orders of magnitude larger than the battery storage market, and stood to benefit from the $7,500 consumer tax credit in the Inflation Reduction Act, which incentivizes the use of domestic minerals and battery components.
The election of Donald Trump threw the future of that tax credit into sudden doubt. The cratering raw minerals market, on the other hand, didn’t immediately translate into falling prices for lithium-iron-phosphate cathodes, the chemistry Gore saw as Bedrock’s main competitor, he told me. So long as this lasted, he thought, Bedrock’s business would be viable. But it didn’t.
“LFP prices have now crashed down to the point where it would almost be a viable business to extract the lithium from them and sell it on the open market,” Gore told me. “The active material producers are running single-digit margins. And so when that happened, it just became clear that the economic case for sodium had collapsed.”
Not everyone agrees that the domestic sodium-ion industry is doomed. Bay Area-based Peak Energy, for example, is still chugging away, and the company’s president and chief commercial officer, Cam Dales, told me he doesn’t expect to face the same headwinds as Bedrock. For one, Peak is targeting the sodium-ion energy storage market rather than the EV market, which means that energy density — sodium-ion’s weak point — is not as important a factor. Secondly, Peak is not in the business of producing battery materials, which Dales sees as an inherently risky and low-margin proposition. Rather, the company plans to produce battery cells domestically by 2028, while sourcing cathode and anode materials from other, ideally domestic, manufacturers.
So while the economic benefits of sodium-ion batteries have certainly diminished, Dales told me that the potential performance benefits — longer cycle life, greater efficiency, and ability to withstand high temperatures — are exceeding his initial expectations. Specifically, Peak is developing a cathode chemistry composed of sodium iron phosphate powder, which Dales claims will save customers money over the 20-year lifetime of a storage project, even if the upfront cost of sodium-ion battery cells is now higher than LFP. “System-level and project-level economics vastly outweigh smaller differences at the cell level,” Dales claimed.
The two industry leaders know each other well, as they used to work together at the lithium-ion battery manufacturer Enovix, where Dales was the chief commercial officer and Gore led the EV products team. Dales said he was bummed to learn of Bedrock’s closure, but not surprised. For domestic battery materials producers such as Bedrock to thrive, Dales told me, he thinks temporary policies that protect and nurture their growth will be necessary to ensure they’re not instantly outcompeted by Chinese incumbents.
“Absent that, it’s hard to see how you build a new materials company in the U.S. and compete against a fully scaled supply chain in China,” he told me.
Indeed, when I asked Gore if there was anything he wished he had done differently, he responded without hesitation, “I would have gone to China the very first day that I founded the company.” When he did visit months later, he said his main takeaway was that “most of the sodium-ion companies in China were producing material at scale, but losing money doing it,” even though they were “essentially producing sodium-ion materials on the exact same production lines that they had been using for lithium-ion materials.” The interchangeability of the two production processes made it crystal clear to Gore that Chinese battery giants such as CATL and BYD already had a tremendous advantage over the U.S., which doesn’t have scaled-up battery facilities.
This is why Gore now rejects the notion that the U.S. could win the race to scale up sodium-ion. “If you lost it for lithium-ion, you’ve already lost it for sodium. It’s the same thing, same equipment, same process.” Now he’s more interested in figuring out a way to facilitate a “once-in-a-generation” transfer of knowledge and technology between the U.S. and China. As it stands, he told me, “they’re 20 years ahead of the rest of the world, and we can’t even tie our own shoes.”
Ironically, bolstering domestic industry was the primary rationale behind Trump’s “Liberation Day” tariffs, which have since been put on pause for every nation except China, which will now be subject to 145% levies. And while Dales thinks tariffs would be a net-positive for his company, Gore told me he doesn’t expect them to help the domestic sodium-ion industry overall.
For one, tariffs will make the price of constructing domestic battery materials and cell facilities even more expensive than it already is relative to China. “So that’s one thing nudging us towards spreading out the factory costs over more energy dense cells,” Gore told me. Another incentive to optimize for energy density, tariffs or not, is the 45x tax credit, which gives cell manufacturers $35 per kilowatt-hour for domestically produced cells. “On a global basis, there’s a strong incentive for the most energy dense cells to be produced in the U.S.,” he argued.
While Peak will also have to contend with higher construction costs due to Trump’s tariffs as it builds out its sodium-ion cell production facility, the company’s customers are independent power producers and utilities that can pass cost increases onto ratepayers. This will mean higher electricity costs for Americans, which Dale acknowledged is not ideal, but he also told me, “I don’t think it actually affects our business that much.” While the company wouldn’t publicly disclose its partnerships, Dales said it’s “working with the majority of the large IPPs in the country,” as well as “a number of” utilities.
Gore thinks it’s possible that the sodium-ion performance advantages Peak is betting on will prove to be compelling for customers and investors in the energy storage space. It’s just not a bet he was willing to take. While Bedrock did explore pivoting into the energy storage market, Gore said he concluded that LFP batteries could likely be engineered to achieve the same cycle life, efficiency, and operating temperature benefits that Dales thinks makes sodium-ion stand out.
“Ultimately, we failed to find a niche where we thought that sodium was the best product,” Gore told me. Some investors were initially reluctant to accept that. They encouraged Bedrock to keep going, to pivot, to place a different bet. They had certainly never had a founder try and give back money before, Gore said. But to him, it just made good sense.
“It’s still possible that we would have succeeded,” he told me. “But I think that the likely size of the success and the likelihood of a success, given everything that we’ve now learned, is considerably smaller. The best expected value for us and for our investors was to simply return their money.”
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
What are the health risks? How can I protect myself? And will my plants be okay?
If you live anywhere near the Great Lakes or Mid-Atlantic (or certain parts of the Mountain West), odds are it’s smoky where you live. Wildfires raging in western Ontario are sending smoke cascading south and east across the U.S., prompting widespread air quality alerts affecting millions of Americans.
The good and — very bad — news is that we’ve been here before. Here’s a look back at some of Heatmap’s coverage from the summer of 2023, when smoke produced by forest fires in Quebec blanketed 128 million people in a murky haze and turned the New York City skyline an ominous shade of orange.
One day — even just one hour — of smoke inhalation can exacerbate pre-existing health conditions and increase an individual’s chance of premature death by 12%. To stay safe, Jeva Lange recommends avoiding prolonged outdoor exposure and masking up when you go outside.
Wildfire smoke is full of tiny pollutants that can leak into your apartment even when the windows and doors are sealed tight. That’s where air purifiers come in, Matthew Zeitlin writes.
Tinted skies are now a rare, remarkable event. But decades ago, before targeted policy interventions, this was everyday life for New Yorkers. Here’s Jeva with more on the legacy of the Clean Air Act.
Before you step out for a run, read Emily Pontecorvo’s guide to what the Air Quality Index is and isn’t telling you.
People should not inhale smoke because of its dangerous health effects. But plants, interestingly, may actually thrive. Allow Jeva to explain.
Current conditions: Wildfire smoke tinted the skies orange across the Northeastern United States, rendering the air on New York’s Long Island thick and hazy all afternoon • London is a balmy 83 degrees Fahrenheit today, but new research shows that the number of days topping 86 degrees has quadrupled since the 1980s • Chile declared a state of emergency across 10 regions ahead of a series of major storms.
The resumption of fighting between the United States and Iran over the Strait of Hormuz could hammer energy markets harder than the previous phase of the conflict, as the crude stockpiles governments tapped at a record volumes to avert the worst economic impact of the war are now depleted. That’s the warning oil traders issued to the Financial Times on Wednesday. “We’ve burned through all of the buffers we had. Everything,” one trader said. “All of that’s now gone.” The gloomy assessment came as The Wall Street Journal reported that President Donald Trump has weighed expanding the U.S. military operation in Iran.
The U.S. Energy Information Administration, meanwhile, released its short-term energy outlook for July, in which the agency estimated that global crude oil inventories declined by 5.1 million barrels per day throughout the second quarter of this year, marking a decline above the seasonal average for that period over the past five years. Even before the conflict picked up again, my colleague Matthew Zeitlin wrote that it would be a long time before the Strait of Hormuz returned to normal operations. Don’t hold your breath.

In the steamy final weeks of August 2019, I found myself on Puerto Rico’s southeast shores. Set against the backdrop of the island’s central mountain range with streams that quench its underground aquifers, this sun-soaked coastal plain was coveted by Spanish and American sugar barons for centuries before transforming into a hub for U.S. agribusiness in recent decades. By the time I arrived, the aquifer was facing threats on multiple fronts. The Puerto Rico Aqueduct and Sewer Authority — known as PRASA or AAA in its Spanish acronym — was losing, by some estimates, more than half the water in its system to leakage, forcing the state-owned utility to draw more from aquifers. With the island’s electrical system still in tatters from Hurricane Maria and its debt at crushing levels, PRASA had little capacity to make the upgrades needed to prevent further decline. Meanwhile, local environmentalists accused regulators of providing little to no oversight of how much water industrial facilities drew from their wells. The story I ultimately reported suggested that water would follow electricity as the next major infrastructure crisis. It was just being felt first, at that time, in places like the town of Salinas, where people like Manases Vega — then a 65-year-old with a chronic respiratory illness — lost access to water every two weeks due to rationing.
Now the crisis has indeed spread. Last month, I told you when Governor Jenniffer González Colón called in the National Guard to help after a major water pipeline cracked. More than a month later, El Nuevo Día reported that the ongoing shortages are forcing residents to pay up to $700 per week for water. Businesses are paying up to $3,500 per week to buy enough bottles to cook, clean, and flush toilets. Hotels are spending up to $100,000, the island’s newspaper of record also reported last week. “We were without water for more than 50 days here on Calle Loíza,” Jonathan Collazo, a restaurant owner, said, referring to the popular street with bars and restaurants in Santurce, roughly the equivalent of San Juan’s Williamsburg.
For 12 years, Péter Szijjártó served as Hungary’s top diplomat in the government of former Prime Minister Viktor Orbán. On Wednesday, he announced his resignation from parliament to take a job at China’s top electric automaker. “I have received an extremely honorable offer to fill an international position from one of the world’s leading companies,” he wrote in a post on Facebook. “BYD is one of the greatest automotive success stories of the past twenty years and is also the world’s leading manufacturer of new energy vehicles.” His critics may quibble with the word “honorable.” Szijjártó established his relationship with the company while serving as foreign minister, and his government had planned to provide subsidies to BYD to open its new hub in Budapest. Just a few months ago, CNBC reported that the European Union was investigating labor violations at BYD’s factory in Szeged. Last month, the Hungarian investigative site 444 reported that a worker died at the plant.
Sign up to receive Heatmap AM in your inbox every morning:
The Department of Energy has granted the startup SuperCritical Materials an exclusive license to commercialize patented technology to extract uranium from seawater. The deal requires the Austin-based company to manufacture and deploy the technology in the U.S. before exporting to allied nations, according to The Northern Miner. The concept of drawing uranium out of seawater has existed for years, an idea that took root before the vast new reserves of the metal were discovered on land. But seawater extraction remained on the agenda in countries without access to mines. When I visited the Philippines in 2024 to report on the country’s nuclear ambitions, I met scientists at the state atomic energy agency who were researching methods to secure a uranium supply from the water. But Ted Garrish, the assistant U.S. secretary of nuclear energy, said “this technology represents a potentially significant contribution to America’s long-term fuel security and industrial competitiveness.”
On Tuesday, New York Governor Kathy Hochul signed an executive order enacting the nation’s first statewide moratorium on data centers. On Wednesday, Michigan Governor Gretchen Whitmer, a fellow Democrat, staked out a different position, unveiling what E&E News called a “package of 10 commitments to ensure companies pay the full cost of construction, operation, power, and water” from new data centers for artificial intelligence. “On my watch, Michiganders have been protected from any rate increases due to data center development and we adopted some of the strongest protections for people and communities, but we need to do more,” Whitmer said in a statement.
“It’s been exciting to see different states — and, to be blunt, to see Democratic-governed states, particularly those in the Northeast and Mid-Atlantic — try to take on the data center boom. It’s good to see them test out ideas, solve problems through legislation, and harness this moment for the public good without strangling the buildout entirely,” my colleague Robinson Meyer wrote yesterday. “For too long, blue states have leaned into a particular economic model, one in which states want to attract varying forms of development but in fact succeed only in creating new suburbs, office buildings, and warehouses.”
It is, according to Bloomberg, “the plastic America loves to hate.” But a new industry group wants to save polystyrene by convincing lawmakers to stop targeting styrofoam. Formed by 17 companies that produce the material, the Polystyrene Recycling Alliance aims to forestall bans by making sure styrofoam is treated as recyclable under state packaging laws. “There’s the narrative that polystyrene is not part of the circular future,” Justin Riney, chair of the alliance and an executive at manufacturer Ineos Styrolutions, told the newswire. “We are adamant that we have the data, and we know that our products are part of the future.”
Proposed reforms to Europe’s Emissions Trading System could see the EU itself become a carbon credit customer.
The European Union is on the verge of making major changes to its carbon market, including integrating carbon removals into the scheme for the first time.
The bloc’s highest governing body, the European Commission, is expected to publish a proposal on Friday to reform the EU Emissions Trading System, or ETS, to align it with the EU’s 2040 emissions target. Under the current rules, companies cannot use carbon credits of any kind to comply with the regulations. But as 2040 grows closer, the EU plans to rely on carbon removal to offset some of the residual emissions from industries that are the most difficult to decarbonize.
Friday’s proposal will cover which types of carbon removal will be accepted, how many carbon removal credits can enter the market and when, and who will be allowed to buy them. One leading approach would have the EU government buy carbon removal directly, which would give the industry unprecedented market certainty.
“The ETS could be the single biggest driver of demand for carbon removal for the next decade,” Felix Grey, a policy manager for the carbon registry Isometric, told me.
The ETS enforces a cap on emissions that declines over time. Large emitters located in the EU must buy “allowances” for each ton of carbon they release, while the pool of available allowances shrinks apace with the emissions cap. Last year, the EU set a new target to reduce emissions 90% below 1990 levels by 2040, building off its earlier target of a 55% reduction by 2030. The upcoming proposal will address how the market should operate between 2030 and 2040 to achieve that goal.
There are many contentious questions surrounding this next phase, including how quickly the cap should decline over the decade. Another question is how many free allowances the EU should give to energy-intensive facilities such as steelmakers and fertilizer producers, which it does to prevent them from leaving Europe due to higher operating costs. Now that the EU has launched its carbon border adjustment mechanism, which taxes higher-carbon imports of these goods, free allowances may not be as necessary.
The integration of carbon removal is also controversial. At best, it could be an opportunity to improve and scale up nascent technologies that take carbon out of the atmosphere. At worst, it could enable polluters to avoid cutting their own emissions by purchasing carbon credits that don’t represent real climate benefits. Then there’s the possibility that removals will be so expensive that their integration into the ETS will have no effect at all — that is, it will be less expensive for companies to pursue emissions reductions than to buy their way out. The outcome will depend on the rules the EU Commission proposes and what its member states ultimately agree to.
Today, most carbon removal efforts are supported by research grants and voluntary carbon credit purchases from companies like Microsoft. A common mantra in the industry is that it will never reach a meaningful scale without government backing. Carbon removal startups aren’t selling a product with inherent value, they are selling a waste management solution. Unless governments require polluters to clean up their carbon waste, or else handle the job themselves as a public good, carbon removal will never take off.
Some governments have already dabbled in state-sponsored removals. Under the Biden administration, the U.S. launched a carbon removal purchase pilot prize, dedicating $35 million to buy carbon removal from a handful of promising companies. It never got past the initial award phase, however, and the Trump administration has not continued the program. A number of cities and counties across the U.S. have set up their own, much smaller purchasing programs in an effort to support the industry. Making carbon removal part of a regulatory program like the EU’s ETS could open the industry to a much bigger market.
As of today, there are a few knowns and a few unknowns about what the Commission plans to propose. For example, it’s relatively clear what methods of carbon removal the European Commission will allow into the market. Earlier this year, the EU finalized regulations for certifying three kinds of carbon removal under its official Carbon Removal and Carbon Farming scheme — direct air capture, biomass with carbon capture, and biochar projects — laying out criteria for quality as well as monitoring and reporting rules. For now, only these three project types can be considered.
Here’s the problem: Direct air capture and biomass with carbon capture are two of the most expensive project types. The average carbon removal credit from these methods costs hundreds of dollars. The average price of an allowance in the ETS, by contrast, has hovered between $70 and $90 over the past few years. Depending on how the Commission chooses to incorporate the credits into the market, it’s possible that no one will buy them.
The European Commission has said it is considering three options. The leading proposal is for the EU to create a central purchasing authority that buys removals using revenues from the ETS. For each removal credit the government acquires, it would issue an additional allowance into the market on top of the established cap. This would enable regulated facilities to emit a bit more than they could otherwise — a tradeoff that Grey argued would help them stay competitive. At the same time, it would also ensure that there’s demand for carbon removal regardless of the price.
The second option is to leave it to the market, giving emitters the option to purchase carbon removal credits as an alternative to purchasing allowances. In this version, similar to the first, the carbon removal credits would enter the market as an addition to the established amount of allowances. Whether or not anyone actually buys carbon removal will depend on how tight the allowance market is.
In the third option, emitters would be able to use carbon removal credits in lieu of allowances, but those credits would operate “below the cap,” so to speak. For every credit counted toward the ETS, regulators would reduce the number of allowances available to purchase by the same amount. It is hard to see why any company would purchase carbon removal in this version unless and until the price of a credit drops below the price of an allowance, however.
Carbon Market Watch, a nonprofit watchdog group, isn’t excited about any of these options. In a recent white paper on ETS reforms, it argued that Europe should support carbon removal separate from the ETS. “Direct integration of CDR in the ETS is either a dead end, or the start of a slippery slope,” the group warned. Carbon Market Watch also has concerns about the integrity of the EU’s carbon removal certification scheme. The group has formally challenged the methodologies for certifying biochar and biomass with carbon capture projects, arguing that they do not account for all the emissions associated with these processes, lack sustainable biomass sourcing safeguards, and in the case of biochar, are missing monitoring requirements. If ETS credits are built on faulty science, the EU could end up spending billions of dollars to little climate benefit.
The other big question about the integration is the amount of carbon removal the EU will allow into the market. Even if the bloc decides to create a central purchasing authority, its potential to help the industry scale will depend on how much it commits to buying. Grey, of Isometric, argued that staying on course for net zero by 2050 would require the EU to remove about 100 million metric tons of carbon per year by 2040.
“A strong proposal on Friday will confirm carbon removal’s integration from 2031, commit to buying removal at the scale required to meet net zero, and treat every credible method equally rather than picking winners,” he said.