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“It’s Confederate Disneyland, and it’s about to be SeaWorld,” says Susan Crawford, the author of a new book about the city.
In the last few years, climate change has made its impact known in violent, eye-grabbing ways. Heat waves and drought slowly roll across the planet; hurricanes and floods and wildfires bring sudden devastation to communities that were once safe. But there are also slower, more insidious impacts that we can easily forget about in the wake of those disasters, including the most classic impact of them all: sea-level rise.
The East Coast is particularly vulnerable to rising seas, and in her new book Charleston: Race, Water, and the Coming Storm (Pegasus Books, April 4, 2023), Susan Crawford, a writer and professor at Harvard Law School, explores how the historic city, the largest in South Carolina, is preparing — or failing to prepare — for what’s to come. Flooding has become increasingly commonplace in Charleston, Crawford writes, and the city’s racial history has meant that low-income communities of color are bearing the worst of the impact, with little hope for relief.
Charleston is a bellwether for what the rest of the East Coast can expect as the waters of the Atlantic creep ever higher. When we spoke, Crawford, author of the books Fiber and The Responsive City, among others, began by describing her book as a survival story rather than a climate story. Our conversation has been edited for length and clarity.
Things are pigeonholed as climate inappropriately. This is more about the question of: Can we overcome our polarization and limitations as human beings and plan ahead for a rapidly accelerating cataclysm that will, in particular, hit the East Coast at three or four times the rate of speed it goes the rest of the world? Can we plan ahead? Can we think about what anybody with a belly button needs to thrive? Because after all, isn’t that the role of government?
I came to Charleston initially on a solo vacation in December 2017. I went there for Christmas. And it’s an interesting place, but I didn’t really know what the history of it was. And I decided to go back in February 2018 to interview the man who’d recently stepped down as mayor, Joe Riley. He had been mayor for 40 years. His tagline was America’s favorite mayor. And he had transformed Charleston over his tenure into a tourist magnet, seven million tourists a year. Lots of development. It became a food and arts destination. And I was just curious about Mayor Riley. So I contacted a local journalist named Jack Hitt, and he suggested that I ask the mayor about the water.
So, when I interviewed Riley, I asked him about flooding. And he’s a very charming guy, little bowtie, little khaki suit. And he clammed up. All he said was that it was going to be very expensive. That was it.
And I said, “huh, maybe there’s a story here.” And this became a quest to try to figure out what the Charleston story was. At first, I thought it was going to be a story of local government heroism. And in a sense, it still is. I think the city is, in a sense, doing what it can. But then I was lucky enough to be introduced to several Black resident leaders at Charleston who were very generous to me and explained what it’s like to be Black in Charleston, and the ongoing lack of a Black professional class in Charleston. There’s sort of the idea that the civil war never ended in Charleston: There’s a lack of Black advisors near the mayor, although there are Black members of city council.
Charleston’s successes and failures are just harbingers of what we will be seeing up and down the East Coast. They’re more visible in Charleston, and Charleston lives in the dreams of millions of people who want to visit. The failures of the structures around Charleston and inside Charleston are fractal in nature. They are replicated across the globe. It’s Confederate Disneyland, and it’s about to be SeaWorld.
Courtesy of Pegasus Books
Charleston is extremely low in terms of its topography. The peninsula itself was built on fill, like much of Boston. Enslaved people filled in the perimeter of what is now today’s peninsula. So about a third of that peninsula — the lower part where these gorgeous historical houses are — is five feet or less above sea level. And then these outlying suburbs, many of which were annexed into Charleston’s property tax base by Mayor Riley over the course of his mayoralty, were historically marshy wetlands. There’s very little high land in the entire city of Charleston. A lot of the area outside off the peninsula is about 10 feet or less above sea level. So Charleston’s topography sets it up for the threat of rising waters.
It’s actually more exposed than the Netherlands, because it’s not as if there are defined waterways that lead inland — it’s actually a gazillion interconnected tiny watersheds across a flat area. So water can just roll over the place unimpeded when it rises.
Charlestonians have almost gotten used to ongoing flooding, there’s a sort of complacency that sets in. And there’s also, I think, a sense in Charleston, that they’ve missed a lot of big storms recently, and maybe they believe it’s not going to happen to them. But they’re just one storm away from being flattened, basically.
Right now the city has a single planning horizon in mind, which is 2050, and a single level of sea level rise, which is 18 inches. That might be fine up until 2050. But after that we’re going to see very rapidly accelerating sea level rise — scientists are predicting more like three feet by 2070. And then at least five by the end of the century.
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Charleston was the place where 40% of the enslaved people forcibly brought to America first step foot. It’s the place where, after the slave trade was outlawed in 1808, a great deal of the domestic slave trade was carried out. Its entire economy, initially, was based on extractive labor from enslaved people.
After the Civil War, a lot of free Black people moved onto the peninsula seeking work. Charleston in the 1970s was a majority Black peninsula, with 75% Black residents. Today, it’s at most 12 percent on the peninsula: That whole population has been displaced and moved to North Charleston, which has one of the highest eviction rates in the country, or off in far flung suburban areas where it’s cheaper. There are still some concentrated areas of Black residents on the peninsula on the east side, which floods all the time and has been a lower income area for all of Charleston’s history. And then there are public housing areas, mostly inhabited by Black residents.
Well, for a long time, Charleston, simply lived with flooding and let its sewage go right into the water. But in the late 19th century, a brilliant and energetic engineer figured out how to install tunnels underneath the streets of the peninsula that would drain sewage away from the houses and also take water out of the streets. It’s a gravity driven tunnel system, and a lot of that system is still in place.
But gravity isn’t going to help as the seas rise. The peninsula will be at the same level as the sea, so the gravity-based system won’t function. The city’s hard working stormwater manager is working on upgrading that system substantially, furnishing them with pumps, so they don’t have to rely just on gravity. But they’re going to need a lot of pumping to get the water off the streets in order to make life possible on the peninsula.
Mayor Riley, to his credit, developed a stormwater plan in 1984. But it was all very expensive, and many of the projects have not yet been completed, in particular on the west side of the peninsula. And all of that planning is premised on the idea that you’re supposed to pump the water off the peninsula, that no matter how much water there is, you’re going to take it away. That kind of money has not been invested in the outlying suburbs. When water comes there it just sits.
The other factor is that the groundwater in Charleston is very close to the surface. So as seas rise, the groundwater is also going to be rising and it will have nowhere to go. You know, they’re doing their best to think of ways to get that water away. But as rainwater gets heavier and seas rise, groundwater rises, and you’ll have a situation of chronic inundation.
A historical map of Charleston, as seen in the book.
This is gradually shifting, but at the state level, certainly, you’re better off not talking about the human causes of climate change. There’s no point. Because then you look as if you’re Al Gore, bringing the heavy hand of government everywhere, and that’s not a good look. And the state government makes it impossible for cities to include the idea of retreating in their comprehensive plans.
When I first interviewed current Mayor Tecklenburg about this whole subject, he said, “do you want to talk about climate change or sea level rise?” And at first I was befuddled, but then I understood what he was saying: Let’s not talk about why it’s happening. But we can talk about the fact that it is happening, because we see it every day.
And so that that’s the approach: Don’t talk about the causes, talk about what’s going on. And in fact, that is, for me, the entire approach of this book. I, of course, fully accept that humans are causing the forcing of temperatures to their stratospheric heights these days, and we need to lower emissions and do whatever we can to decarbonize our economy. But I’m concerned that even if we do that, the changes in the climate that are already baked in are going to have disastrous effects on human beings’ lives. So we need to be planning in both directions at once, both planning to reduce missions and planning to help people survive.
One of the leading characters here is Reverend Joseph Darby, who is a senior AME minister, and also the co chair of the local NAACP branch in Charleston. He’s in his 70s, very wise, and he has, of course, personally experienced flooding, and in particular, flooding that makes his church inaccessible since he’s a preacher on the peninsula.
He told me he learned early in his career that it was important never to be surprised by anything he heard in Charleston. He could be shocked, he could be astonished, but he couldn’t be surprised. He continues to feel that way in the absence of powerful Black voices advising the mayor.
His two boys moved away from Charleston, as much as he might have hoped that they would stay. The Black professional class doesn’t stay in Charleston because it’s just too hard. It’s just not worth it. He feels that there’s a sort of a benevolent paternalism from political leaders, a sense of “we know what’s best for you folks.”
The Black leaders I talked to pointed out that nobody is talking about how we’re going to help low income and Black residents of the region who have nowhere to go when the flooding hits in a big way. Nobody’s talking about the kind of holistic support services that are going to be needed, and this will just further entrench and amplify the inequality and unfairness. They also point out that this is a regional problem and national problem. And they just don’t see that kind of coordination happening.
Yeah, the big plan in Charleston is to work with the Army Corps of Engineers on building a 12-foot-tall wall around the peninsula with gates in it, that would, in theory, protect the peninsula from storm surges. The wall wouldn’t be designed to protect the 90% of people who don’t live on the peninsula. Nor would it be designed to do anything about the heavy rain or the constant high tides. It’s just for storm surges.
It’s a plan to protect the high property values on the peninsula, and in particular the areas that are good for tourism. You know, pillars of the Charleston economy. It’s fair to say that that if it’s ever built, that wall will be outmoded by the time it’s finished, because it’s built to a very low standard — 18 inches of sea level rise by 2050. The reason it’s built to such a low standard is that if it was any higher the wall would mess with the freeways that come onto the peninsula from the airport. And the Army Corps of Engineers representative was pretty frank about that. He said that just wouldn’t pencil out, that wouldn’t make sense economically to build anything higher.
So I mean, Charleston is stuck, because the only vessel for money right now is coming through these armoring projects being built by the Army Corps. And the plan is for that wall to be built in very slow sections, gradually protecting parts of the peninsula. As planned, it would take 30 years to build. So the underlying plan is for Charleston to be hit by a disaster that then causes enormous concern and empathy for Charleston, and a huge congressional appropriation bill. That’s what happened after Katrina. And then that wall would be finished quickly,
The wall as designed would not protect a couple of Black settlements farther up the peninsula, because the cost benefit analysis doesn’t work out. But it’s not Charleston’s fault that it’s planning on a disaster, because our entire approach to this survival question is premising on disaster recovery, not on proactive planning. There are 30 federal agencies that have all these scattershot programs that are aimed at disaster recovery, and there is very little advanced planning going on.
Well, in our country, we’ve had decades of exclusion through segregation and redlining and soft processes not quite understood by a lot of people that have pushed Black citizens into lower, more rapidly-flooding areas. And that history then plays out into what we decide to value. If our history has put Black Americans into more flood-prone, lower value housing over time, then it’s a garbage-in, garbage-out algorithm. If we then decide to only protect the places that are high property value, we will inevitably, yet again, exclude Black residents from the benefit of federal planning.
So it’s a pattern that was set a long time ago and did not arise by accident, playing out in the way we make decisions today.
And to its credit, the Biden administration just issued a terrific Economic Report of the President that said inequality and property values and ownership in the U.S. reflects decades of exclusion of racial minorities from home ownership and public investment, and we need different criteria to capture the differential vulnerability of these populations. So yeah, they’re on it. They understand.
No, Congress has already voted on the Charleston project. They say they’ve got this great benefit-cost ratio, one of the best in the nation, they’re really trumpeting it. It feels strange that we would pump billions of dollars into short sighted armoring of coastline that doesn’t protect against the daily harms we know are going to happen.
Well, people’s attachment to their homes is very deep. Not just for Black residents who can’t afford to leave, but for white residents and rich people as well. It’s likely it will take a series of disasters separated by very few months to convince everybody that this place really isn’t going to be livable. For decades, we already know that you can show maps to city planners, you can talk about the data to people until you’re blue in the face. This is especially true when it comes to coastal properties. It’s not rational. People are highly reluctant to leave.
It also could be a sudden cliff in property valuation, which is likely to happen in the next few years as there are actors in the financial system who fully understand this. Private flood insurers walked away from selling insurance there, leaving the federal government providing 95% or more of the flood insurance in Charleston. At some point, the fact that coastal real estate is now overvalued in the United States to the tune of $200 billion will be reflected in residential property markets up and down, and people will be unable to sell their houses. And then we might see a change in behavior.
The only country in the world that is actively talking about relocation is the Netherlands. They are planning or at least talking about needing to keep options open to move large populations away from Amsterdam, Rotterdam, towards Germany. But for everybody else, it is extremely difficult to talk about it. And you would hope that we wouldn’t have to have a global economic crisis to force planning, because that’s what this would amount to. It would be worse than 2008 if this overvaluation is suddenly corrected, because the loss of property value is permanent, and it’s not coming back. And it would be too bad if it took that kind of market crash to force planning in this direction.
If we had a president who was able to engage in long term planning, we could, with dignity and respect, change the financial drivers and levers and incentives to encourage people to understand this risk and move away from it without having to lose all their wealth. And without having to be cast into the role of migrants.
We absolutely can do this. We built the Hoover Dam, and we built the Interstate Highway System. We can afford what we care about. And if this was a priority, we could do this. But for me, the moment of redemption, the first moment of redemption will be when it’s somebody’s job in the White House to speak publicly about this constantly in league with the best scientists in the world.
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Berkeley-based Copper was selected to supply 10,000 stoves to the New York City Housing Authority.
Last year, New York City went shopping for 10,000 induction stoves so it could ditch gas in its public housing. Now it's ready to make a purchase.
The New York Power Authority and NYC Housing Authority have selected Copper, a Berkeley, California-based startup that was formerly known as Channing Street Copper Company, as the winner of their Induction Stove Challenge, Heatmap has learned. The agencies are planning to award the company a $32 million, seven-year contract to design, prototype, test, and install its stoves in apartments throughout the city.
As I wrote when I covered the launch of the contest in 2023, the goal is not just to improve the lives of NYC public housing residents by helping them avoid the toxic fumes of cooking with gas, but also to spur a larger market transformation that lowers the barriers to induction stoves for everyone.
These aren’t just any induction stoves. Manufacturers were challenged to design an appliance that’s compatible with a standard 120-volt outlet so that it doesn’t require an expensive electrical upgrade to install. Most products on the market require a 240-volt outlet.
The news of the winner was buried in the minutes of a NYPA Finance Committee meeting that took place in July, when Authority staff submitted a request to the committee to recommend that its Board of Trustees approve the award. The Trustees approved the award at a meeting on July 30.
It’s unclear whether the contest ultimately fostered much innovation. The meeting minutes say that only four companies submitted proposals. I’m aware of at least two startups — Copper and Impulse Labs — that were already designing induction stoves for 120-volt outlets prior to NYPA’s challenge. Both companies solve the issue with a similar solution — their stoves come with built-in batteries that can supply extra voltage as needed.
In response to a question about why NYPA selected Copper, a spokesperson pointed to the fact that the company has already designed, developed, and manufactured stoves with similar specifications to what the contest was calling for. “From the competitively procured proposal and interview, the company demonstrated their deep understanding of both residential electrical systems as well as battery equipped products,” they told me.
Still, the award has the potential to make this technology more accessible by bringing down the cost through economies of scale. Currently, Copper’s least expensive stove sells for $5,999; NYPA said the stove delivered for the program is expected to be below $3,000, but NYCHA is still negotiating the cost and other aspects of the product before fully awarding the contract. (Copper was not able to respond to questions about the award as it has not been officially announced yet.)
That price also doesn’t take into account the avoided cost of redoing the electrical work in the buildings. Ultimately the order could also be much more than 10,000 — NYPA has said that 12 other housing authorities representing more than 300,000 housing units have signed up to support the initiative. There’s also a good chance that the stoves will be eligible for at least a 30% tax credit.
Once the contract is fully awarded, the next step will be for Copper to produce a single unit for testing before moving on to the pilot stage, where it will produce and install 100 stoves. If the pilot is successful, the agencies will purchase at least 10,000 units.
The same agencies are in the pilot phase of a similar contest called Clean Heat For All, which aims to bring new heat pumps to market that can be installed in a window rather than requiring costly construction work. Last winter, they ran a pilot in two dozen NYCHA apartments with the winning units — models from the startup Gradient and veteran manufacturer Midea. NYPA reported this summer that the units “provided consistently comfortable temperatures throughout the pilot period, with residents reporting high levels of satisfaction,” and said it planned to study the tech’s cooling capabilities next.
From the national to the state to the local level, the state is about to hold some of the country’s most crucial elections.
In 2022, the Arizona Republic published a sentence many Democrats had dreamed of reading for decades: “Arizona,” the paper announced, “is a blue state.”
At the time, it felt true. In 2020, Joe Biden won the Grand Canyon State — only the second time a Democrat had done so since Arizona broke for Harry Truman in 1952 — and Democrat Mark Kelly defeated Republican Sen. Martha McSally in a special election to fill the late John McCain’s Senate seat, a victory that helped the Inflation Reduction Act get over the finish line. The 2022 midterm elections confirmed that the Democrats’ wins in the state hadn’t just been a one-time occurrence: Kelly successfully defended his seat, securing a full term; Katie Hobbs won the governorship; and Adrian Fontes beat a January 6 participant to become the secretary of state, Democrats all.
With the 2024 election still a little more than a week away, it’s too soon to tell whether the blue state proclamations of 2022 were premature. But Arizona hasn’t been looking terribly cerulean. In 2023, the Republican-held state legislature passed eight of 16 anti-environment bills introduced and stranded 22 pro-environment bills without committee hearings. Republican voter registration in the state has also swelled since 2016 as Democratic rolls stayed relatively stagnant, giving the GOP an edge in a place where 10,457 votes can make all the difference.
Arizona is just one state out of 50 (or 11 electoral votes out of 538, if you prefer), but it represents a curious microcosm of the high-stakes climate and energy elections happening all over the country this November. Or perhaps it is not so curious: Arizona is on the front lines of the climate-related impacts of droughts, longer and nastier heat waves, ozone pollution, and wildfires, while also being in a position to weigh the trade-offs of crucial clean energy developments like building new energy transmission, critical mineral mining, and utility-scale solar. “It’s like an incubator. There’s just so much happening here, it’s ready to burst,” Jane Conlin, a co-leader of the Tucson chapter of the Citizens' Climate Lobby, which has been engaging in get-out-the-vote efforts with the Environmental Voter Project, told me.
Aside from its electoral college allocations, the most consequential race in Arizona this cycle will be for outgoing Independent Senator Kyrsten Sinema’s seat. The state is currently leaning slightly toward Democratic Representative Ruben Gallego, who could help stem a total hemorrhaging of blue seats from the Senate — which, in turn, would have implications for the passage of any decarbonization legislation in the next administration.
Two U.S. House elections in Arizona could similarly help determine the balance of power on Capitol Hill come January. AZ-01 is the wealthiest congressional district in the state, in the northeastern corner of Phoenix’s Maricopa County, where a former E.R. doctor is trying to unseat a seven-term Republican incumbent in a battle that has centered on abortion access. (The district is also home to the Rio Verde Foothills, which made national headlines in 2022 when Scottsdale cut off its water supply due to drought-related shortages.)
But it’s the other race, in the sixth congressional district spanning the suburbs of Tucson, that looks more like a proxy battle between different climate ideologies. Kirsten Engel — who previously worked for the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency and serves as the co-director of the Environmental Law Program at the University of Arizona — is challenging Juan Ciscomani, a Trump-endorsed moderate conservative who has backed residential solar projects, promoted himself as an advocate for a “secure water future,”and, earlier this year, co-sponsored a bill seen as a first step toward a carbon border tax. (As his opponents quickly point out, he also voted against the IRA; Ciscomani has also been tied to a groundwater scandal involving a Saudi Arabian-owned alfalfa farm.)
Engel previously lost a tight election against Ciscomani in 2022, and has made abortion a centerpiece of her campaign, too. But she has also gone aggressively after the Republican for his alignment with the mining industry, including his support for a proposed open-pit copper mine that opponents say will pollute Tucson’s air and waterways; supporters, meanwhile, say it’s critical to create a domestic supply chain for the energy transition. The League of Conservation Voters, which identified the sixth congressional district election as one of its priority races, is running ads in the state playing up this pollution angle.
Engel herself has slammed the proposed mine, which would be built on public lands, as a “giveaway” to a foreign mining company, and touted the need to protect the region’s “spectacular scenic vistas and the tourism economy.” She has also sought to go toe-to-toe with Ciscomani on water conservation, though as Grist has reported, drought and water rights can be tricky for Arizona politicians to run on because voters don’t have a firm grasp of how the complicated policies work.
The future of climate policy at the regional and municipal levels in Arizona is also in play. Democrats could potentially flip the balance of power in the state House and Senate, each branch currently having just a one-seat Republican advantage, and restart movement on the slate of stalled pro-environmental bills. (The Democratic governor’s term runs through 2026.) “The state legislature in Arizona is so critical,” John Qua, the campaign manager of Lead Locally, told me. “Not only does building a democratic trifecta get the state closer to passing policy that tackles climate change in some of the ways we might more typically understand it — like moving towards clean energy — but it also makes it much likelier that the state legislature will pass water conservation policy.”
The 11 races are “all at a razor-thin margin,” Qua told me, though climate is unlikely to be the issue that tips the balance in any of them. That goes for just about any race in Arizona — except the state’s Corporation Commission, which Heatmap’s Emily Pontecorvo covered earlier this week. Currently, the ACC is operating with a four-to-one Republican majority, but with three Democrats, two Green party candidates, and three Republicans (including an incumbent) running to fill three seats, there’s a wide-open chance that candidates sympathetic to clean energy policy, including the state’s massive solar opportunity, could take control.
“Arizona could lead the world in solar power if politicians would only let it,” Nathaniel Stinnett, the founder and executive director of the Environmental Voter Project, told me. “But that isn’t going to happen unless the climate movement starts showing up in unstoppable numbers whenever there’s an election.”
Conlin, who co-leads the Tucson chapter of the Citizens’ Climate Lobby, has been working on the ground to reach the 230,000 potential first-time environmental voters that Stinnett and his team have identified in the state. (EVP numbers released earlier this week showed that those who vote based on climate issues were about 20% more likely to have submitted an early vote than the average voter.) During a recent folklife festival CCL volunteers attended, “I think about only 25% of people [we engaged with] were really aware of the Arizona Corporation Commission,” Conlin told me. But she’s excited nevertheless: This year, the ACC poll is on the front of Arizonans’ ballots, rather than the back, making it harder for even low-information voters to overlook.
The state is also a case study of how an elected body as small and seemingly insignificant as a school board can make a difference in the progress toward decarbonization. The Tucson Unified School District board of governors will vote next week on a climate action plan that would set a goal of reaching net-zero emissions by 2045. If successful, TUSD would be one of the first school districts in the nation to have implemented such a plan.
Arizona is not the only state in the country that, as Colin put it, feels “on this cusp of being able to reach out — not only to see a 50% cut in emissions but 100%. It’s doable, it’s within reach.” Pennsylvania and Michigan voters will also have opportunities to elect politicians who will advance climate legislation, and voters in Washington, California, and New York can defend their states’ progress. But it’s Arizona where the stakes seem especially immediate — and high. “It’s supposed to be 96 [degrees Fahrenheit] here today,” Conlin marveled when we spoke this week, at the end of October.
I could hear the weariness in the voices of the organizers I spoke to after a long, hard-fought season; candidates are set to make their final pitches to voters next week. Early-voting ballots are already in the mail or in hand. The CCL has just one final day of canvassing planned, on November 2. The polls will close three days later, at 7 p.m. local time, and then the count will begin.
Tesla got to thump its chest this week. In a Wednesday earnings call with investors, CEO Elon Musk and company shared better-than-expected sales and financial numbers for the third quarter of 2024. That good news caused the electric vehicle-maker’s stock to rebound following what had been a disappointing sales year so far, with the slump compounded by a tepid reaction to the “We, Robot” event earlier in October, when Tesla debuted its autonomous Cybercab.
A few important factors underlie Tesla’s big rebound: Manufacturing costs fell, the refreshed Model 3 is doing well, and the Cybertruck has begun to sell in big enough numbers to help the company’s bottom line. Then there was this line from Musk’s presentation: “Preparations remain underway for our offering of new vehicles – including more affordable models – which we will begin launching in the first half of 2025.”
You might think that sentence suggests the long-rumored $25,000 Tesla is, at last, right around the corner. But when pressed by an investor whether the company would indeed build a "$25,000 non-robotaxi regular car model," Musk called the idea “pointless.” "It would be silly. It would be completely at odds with what we believe," he continued, saying that it’s “blindingly obvious” autonomy is the future.
It’s beginning to look like the idea of a little human-driven Tesla that costs as much as a Toyota Corolla will forever be a fantasy. One could argue, though, it has already done its job. The promise of the “Model 2,” perpetually dangled in front of the world as something just a few years away, enticed many people — including, crucially, investors — to believe Musk would extend his dominance of the EV market and truly conquer the car industry by offering an entry-level electric car for the masses. But if that ever was the plan, it isn’t anymore.
Tesla has always played fast and loose with deadlines and promises. It finally launched the Model 3 after years of promising the $35,000 Tesla, though obtaining the base version of the car at that price was a major challenge. In fact, most Model 3s that sold cost well into the $40,000s, if not more. The cheapest one you can order today starts at $43,000 before incentives.
The even smaller Tesla has been the topic of long-running rumors, buoyed by signals from the mothership. In 2022, Musk simply had “too much on his plate” to work on the car. In 2023, when Tesla finally began to sell a new vehicle, it was not a cheap compact but the Cybertruck. Musk then reportedly tabled the cheap Tesla indefinitely.
That didn’t stop the optimism. In the leadup to this week’s earnings call, one major analyst said it was the potential $25,000 EV, not the Cybercab or any of Tesla’s future-looking autonomous projects, that would drive the company’s success (and stock price) in the short term. After all, an EV with that MSRP could have a true cost under $20,000 after tax credits. At that point, it would undercut even entry-level gas cars in the U.S.
During the call, while scoffing at the idea of a small Tesla for carbon-based drivers, Musk pointed out that the Cybercab is technically a $25,000 car after tax breaks (though, this is the same man who, while throwing his weight behind the Trump campaign, has said that ending the EV tax credit would benefit Tesla). It’s just one that happens to have no steering wheel and no pedals. Teslaraticoncluded that the company’s promise of more affordable cars to come in the beginning of next year refers to lowering the prices of Tesla’s current offerings, not any plans to debut something new and different.
The EV market has changed a lot since the dawn of this decade, when Tesla rolled out the Model Y and cemented its grip on the industry. The rise of the super-cheap Chinese EV in particular spooked not only Western governments, but also American car companies that had dreams of competing for the lower end of the market. Combine that with Musk’s insistence that Tesla remain a lean, innovative firm rather than maturing into a boring EV-maker and you arrive at this point, with Musk going all in on trying to win the race for the true self-driving car instead of diversifying the kinds of vehicles it’s actually selling today.
History could prove him right. Still, that’s cold comfort for anyone who’d been hoping for a small, cheap EV they could drive themselves. It’s certainly possible to envision the Cybercab adapted for human drivers, but Musk is adamant that won’t happen. So an affordable, normal EV will have to come from elsewhere.
And it might. Despite gloomy headlines about a supposed slump, EV sales in America are steadily rising. At the less expensive end of the market, Chevy has begun selling the base-level version of the Equinox EV at the promised $35,000, which could fall under $30,000 with tax breaks. The Chevy Bolt should be even cheaper than that when it returns for the 2026 model year. Detroit has a whole lot to figure out in the coming years about how to build electric vehicles profitably, but, at the very least, the legacy carmakers might actually offer you an affordable EV — with a steering wheel.