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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.”
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Even though he is partially responsible for them.
This is an edition of Heatmap Daily, an evening review of the day’s news written by our executive editor. Sign up for it here.
Welcome to August — which, as the political commentator Josh Barro once observed, is the year’s “stupidest news month.” Because Congress goes on recess around this time of year, and so many other Americans go on vacation, “the quantity of serious news structurally declines,” and we journalists have to turn to sillier stories in order to fill the space.
I couldn’t help but think of that post today. As my colleague Matthew Zeitlin covered last week, oil companies recently had a blowout quarter. Last week, Chevron reported its best quarterly earnings result ever, while Exxon announced its largest profit in four years. None of this was a surprise: The Iran war and the Strait of Hormuz’s closure sent oil prices soaring around the world in the spring, making the supermajors’ domestic refinery business especially profitable. Despite its big result, Exxon actually underperformed Wall Street’s expectations — that’s how expected all of this was.
Still, though — the oil companies benefited from a supply shock that was hurting everyone else in the economy. Although this kind of volatility is part and parcel of the commodities business — it is part of what makes commodities so enticing to investors — it is, at the very least, not a good look. And in times like these, progressive policymakers will sometimes call for a windfall profits tax, a one-time levy on large and unexpected profits arising from a situation outside a company’s control. (Centrists and conservatives tend to prefer making different reforms to the tax system that tax “supernormal” profits.)
The United States last imposed a windfall profits tax on oil companies in the 1970s, but other countries still use them today: The U.K. implemented one after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine drove up gas prices in 2022, as did a handful of European countries. More recently, Senator Sheldon Whitehouse of Rhode Island and Representative Ro Khanna of California proposed a windfall tax after gasoline prices shot up in March.
I wouldn’t have counted President Trump among Whitehouse’s and Khanna’s number. Yet speaking to reporters from the Oval Office today, Trump said the oil companies were “making too much money” from the Strait of Hormuz closure.
“Chevron, too much money. ExxonMobil, too much money,” the president said. “When you look at one company where they made 12 times what they made the year before, they ought to give some of that back to the public … And they better cut the retail price, the consumer price.”
He noted that many reporters looked “surprised” he was saying it, but reiterated he “wasn’t happy.”
Now, the president hasn't quite called for a windfall profits tax. He seems to have something more voluntary in mind. But it’s still a pretty extraordinary thing for the president to say, given his fealty to the industry in virtually every other context. I’ll admit, too, that I’m perplexed by the president's decision making here. He chose to go to war with Iran — and the almost certain outcome of that war was going to be high oil prices. If anything, the war has moved oil prices less than analysts would have thought. What did Trump expect?
I don't expect these remarks to usher in some new era of Trumpian policy or politics. This is probably just another silly August story. But it reflects how violently the politics of energy have changed since President Trump took office in January 2025. Americans know it, Democrats know it, and President Trump knows it too.
Data centers are a big test for the nascent industry. But they also can’t fill the orderbooks.
For the last few years, there’s been just one story dominating the economy, Silicon Valley, and much of the climate tech world too: artificial intelligence. It has consumed investor’s time and money, leaving relatively little for the rest of the startup ecosystem. But for companies that can hitch themselves to the AI boom and tie their value proposition to the data center buildout, this narrow funding focus can be a tailwind.
The most obvious beneficiaries so far have largely fallen into two camps: startups using AI to build cheaper, better products or those developing technologies to cleanly power data centers themselves. But what about the companies actually manufacturing the physical materials behind these facilities? The data center buildout is ultimately an investment in the physical economy, which largely means an investment in concrete — the most widely used man-made material on Earth.
Cement, the key ingredient that binds concrete together, accounts for 8% of global CO2 emissions, and is a major driver of hyperscaler’s scope 3 emissions. Microsoft and Google’s recent sustainability reports, for example, reveal that their largest emissions category isn’t electricity but “capital goods,” which includes the embodied carbon in their physical assets and infrastructure such as the concrete, steel, server racks, and silicon used to build data centers.
Cement is a big part of that picture because producing it typically requires burning limestone in kilns at extremely high temperatures, a process that both uses large amounts of fossil fuels and releases CO2 through the underlying chemical reaction itself. So if hyperscalers are serious about decarbonization, one might expect them to be pretty interested in startups such as Brimstone, Sublime Systems, and Fortera, each of which is pursuing a different approach to reducing cement’s carbon footprint.
And they are interested. But that alone won’t fill these company’s orderbooks or offset the headwinds generated by the Trump administration rescinding previously obligated grants. That challenge has only been compounded by climate tech’s broader fall from favor as investors chase flashier, more explicitly AI-centric bets.
Still, Cory Waltrip, Sublime’s VP of business development, told me that data centers make a fantastic beachhead market for the company’s low-carbon cement, which it produces through an electrochemical process that eliminates the need for high-temperature kilns. Hyperscalers, he said, have both the market power and financial runway to think long-term about “the way that they’re signing agreements” and “how you can structure those agreements.” Of course, “the balance sheet and the amount of capital that they allocate towards sustainability commitments” doesn’t hurt either.
Last May, Microsoft signed an offtake agreement with Sublime to purchase up to 622,500 metric tons of cement from the company’s future demonstration plant in Holyoke, Massachusetts, as well as a yet-to-be-sited full-scale facility. The deal is unique because it doesn’t require Microsoft to actually use Sublime’s cement in its data centers. Since cement is expensive and impractical to ship long distances, what Microsoft really purchased is the cement’s so-called “environmental attributes,” allowing Sublime to sell the physical product to local customers while Microsoft gets to claim the associated emissions reductions.
It was one of the first deals in the cement industry to decouple the physical product from its environmental benefits. But that good news was quickly overshadowed. Just eight days later, Energy Secretary Chris Wright announced the cancellation of 24 awards from the DOE’s Office of Clean Energy Demonstrations, including a $87 million grant for Sublime and a $189 million grant for Brimstone. That sent Sublime into a tailspin: In December, it paused plans for its demo plant, and in March it laid off roughly two-thirds of its workforce. The company has since filed a suit in the court of federal claims, alleging that the DOE breached its contract with Sublime, but a resolution could take years.
All the cement-hungry data centers in the world would struggle to make up for the loss of that federal funding. Hyperscalers want to buy low-carbon cement from companies that already have a credible pathway to commercial production, not foot the bill for a first-of-a-kind plant.
So Sublime is now pursuing “alternative scale up plans” that don’t involve the Holyoke facility, with Microsoft remaining “a committed customer,” Waltrip said. The most promising option involves co-locating with existing but underutilized standard cement plants in North America or Europe. Doing so could reduce capital costs by roughly 20% to 40%, Waltrip told me. “We can use all of the existing crushing, grinding, finishing, and storage equipment that an existing cement plant already has.”
Building in Europe — something Sublime has yet to commit to but is certainly considering — could also open the door to other non-dilutive public financing, such as the bloc’s roughly €40 billion EU Innovation Fund, which regularly backs industrial decarbonization projects such as low-carbon cement.
In the meantime, the company also says it’s made significant process improvements that could drastically change the scale at which it builds plants. While former CEO Leah Ellis described Sublime’s future commercial facility as a “megaton-scale plant,” Sublime now thinks it could economically produce the material in 50,000 to 250,000 metric tons-per-year facilities. These smaller plants would be far easier to finance without relying on large government grants, Waltrip told me.
Sublime is exploring multiple other undisclosed data center engagements as well, as Waltrip revealed that “we’ve completed materials testing with at least one hyperscaler. We’ve completed a concrete demonstration pour with another hyperscaler,” and “we’ve negotiated or are in the process of negotiating commercial agreements with other hyperscalers beyond Microsoft.”
The company also conducted a small test pour of its low-carbon concrete last year with STACK Infrastructure, a data center developer that leases out its facilities. But while the material has exceeded performance standards, STACK is unlikely to become a customer anytime soon. “If we had a commercial plant ready to go, I think we would be having no issues with finding customers for that product,” Waltrip told me. The challenge is that developers outside the major hyperscalers typically lack the financial flexibility to sign long-term offtake agreements for a product that may not reach meaningful scale until the mid-2030s.
So for now, Google, Microsoft, Meta, and Amazon remain the most sought-after buyers.
Brimstone, another low-carbon cement company, also landed a major hyperscaler deal last year. The company, which still uses kilns but replaces limestone with carbon-free calcium silicate rocks in its production process, agreed to supply Amazon with an undisclosed amount of cement and supplementary cementitious materials, which can partially replace cement in concrete. CEO Cody Finke told me he couldn’t share any additional details, including the volume of materials reserved or when he expects deliveries to begin, though he readily acknowledges the impact of the data center boom.
“There’s no question that the data center buildout has increased the demand for these materials,” Finke told me. Early last year, the company announced that it’s also figured out how to adapt its process to produce alumina — the refined material that smelters turn into aluminum. Data centers also use this metal throughout their operations in structural panels, server racks, and cooling systems. Eventually, the company says it will be able to make additional critical minerals and materials including steel, magnesium, and titanium.
For now though, Brimstone is working to complete construction of its demo plant in Reno, Nevada, which the company recently said it expects to be operational in 2028. Finke was somewhat more cautious, however, telling me only that it should come online by “the end of the decade.” The company’s first full-scale plant, the location of which it’s yet to announce, is slated to begin operations around 2034, producing 350,000 metric tons of alumina and an undisclosed amount of cement and other materials.
But like Sublime, Brimstone also lost a major source of federal support when the Trump administration rescinded its $189 million DOE grant, which was intended to finance construction of the demo plant. Finke, however, insisted this hasn’t altered the company’s timeline because Brimstone, having netted over $80 million to date, “had effectively raised the money that we needed, regardless of the grant.”
Finke isn’t relying on the goodwill of hyperscalers either, even though many do appear willing to pay a green premium in order to align with their ambitious, if flailing, decarbonization agendas. “To be frank, I don’t think that it’s that important to the transition whether or not those climate policies exist, because the companies that really matter are going to be cheaper anyway,” he told me.
Brimstone, he argues, is one of those companies. By co-producing multiple products at once, each can effectively offset the cost of the others, and Finke expects even the cement produced at the Reno demo plant to sell at standard market rates. Ultimately, while he sees growth in the data center industry as a tailwind, he doesn’t think Brimstone depends on that market, noting these facilities still only account for a small sliver of global cement demand. The company’s primary customers, he said, will ultimately be traditional buyers: concrete producers purchasing cement and aluminum smelters buying alumina.
Yet data centers willing to negotiate multi-year contracts still represent uniquely valuable first customers in an industry where such agreements are exceedingly rare. Instead, producers typically sell cement into a merchant spot market, where buyers purchase from whatever supplier meets their myriad requirements at the time. But that leaves low-carbon materials startups in a bind, Fortera’s CEO Ryan Gilliam told me. “When you’re trying to bring a new technology to market like us, you typically use offtake agreements to get project financing to justify building up big projects,” he explained. Potential investors simply want to see demonstrated future demand.
Fortera, which has raised about $150 million and has an operational pilot plant in California, captures the CO2 emitted from conventional cement production and converts it into a mineral form that then becomes part of the cement itself. Last year, it secured a strategic investment from Microsoft’s Climate Innovation Fund to help finance its first commercial-scale facility, expected to produce 400,000 tons of cement per year. In return, the tech giant secured the right to procure Fortera’s low-carbon cement and its associated environmental attribute certificates — more of a reservation than the binding offtake contract it signed with Sublime.
Just one plant of this size “would meet all the hyperscalers’ needs easily,” Gilliam told me, underlining Finke’s point that data centers will by no means represent a cement company’s largest buyer long-term. “Most hyperscalers, you’re talking maybe upwards of 100,000 tons a year of requirements around cement, and that might even be at the upper end,” Gilliam explained. By comparison, standard cement plants typically produce about a million tons of product annually.
So while Gilliam and others are happy to ride the AI boom, they also recognize that data centers are likely more valuable as an early market signal than a long-term source of demand. Even now, it remains unclear whether the boom is even a net positive for the sector as a whole.
“The number of AI startups and the amount of money that’s been diverted into that space definitely changed the pool of investors that you can go to right now,” Gilliam told me. And that’s the core paradox. The data center boom has become one of the clean cement industry’s most promising early markets and one of its fiercest competitors for capital. Welcome to the AI economy.
The energy developer is backing off after a Heatmap report.
Clearway says it is backing off its plans to build a data center and gas power plant on federal land, days after Heatmap revealed the energy developer’s proposal.
Last week, I reported that Clearway asked the Trump administration’s Bureau of Land Management to swap a five year-old application for a solar farm’s permits with “a proposed data center and natural gas facility.” Clearway’s chief development officer John Woody had written in a letter to BLM dated April 3 that the swap was “the result of a shift in our internal development priorities” and intended “to better align with the goals of our Administration.” He also noted the plans were in “exploratory early stages.”
This news fit a trend. I obtained Clearway’s letter right after reporting on a different solar project on federal land that was being swapped for a data center. But it turns out, the company’s internal thinking continued to shift: on Friday, they reached out to me saying they are now nixing the data center and gas plant, after concluding it wasn’t the right call for their business.
“Since our initial filing, we’ve evaluated how to make the best use of this public land in a way that serves its intended purpose: the public interest. As a clean energy developer and operator, our focus in Nevada remains solar and battery storage,” Clearway said in a statement it provided to me from an unnamed spokesperson. “We are in the process of amending our application to reflect the state’s growing demand for low-cost, reliable energy.”
In addition, Clearway on Monday sent a letter to BLM formally alerting the agency it has no plans to build the data center, which it also provided to me.
When I first broke news of Clearway’s plans, I said it was an apparent aberration – they oversaw relatively few fossil projects and had never worked in data centers. I chalked this pivot up to yet another energy developer changing its tune with the winds of national politics. Now that the company is apparently sticking to its guns, I’m mostly just left wondering what happened here – and relieved some still remain committed to zero-emissions power in the booming business of electrons.