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For the first time in my life I now own a car, and it’s electric.
It took me a few weeks to narrow down my choices to a Hyundai Kona or a Ford Mustang Mach E. After much agonizing comparison, I went with the Kona. While I liked the Mach E’s sporty performance, longer range, and sizable front trunk, ultimately the Kona’s cheaper price, lighter materials, heat pump, and numerous mechanical buttons clinched the deal. After trading in a clapped out 2011 Subaru Impreza, the out-the-door sticker price for the Kona was a bit over $31,000 (though we opted to lease).
Owning and driving an EV has been an instructive experience. I’ve long been a vocal proponent of going electric, but I was honestly surprised by the learning curve. As the automotive journalist Edward Neidermeyer continually points out, an EV simply is not a perfect drop-in replacement for an internal combustion car. But that doesn’t mean you can’t make it work, even for long trips, even in fairly bedraggled parts of the country like northeastern Pennsylvania, where I live, and even with a modest battery and range.
First, the buying experience. The nearest Kona for sale I could find was a 70-mile drive away from Wilkes-Barre to Easton, and the dealership let me take it home so my wife could check it out. This led to the first of several comical lessons. The car had only about a 60 percent charge when I left the dealership, and drained down to 33 percent when I got back home. So before going back to sign the lease papers, it would need a top-up.
I searched on Google Maps for chargers and blithely set out to fill up. It turns out Rust Belt cities like the Scranton-Wilkes-Barre area are not exactly bursting with EV charging infrastructure. The first one I found was a free employee charger at a charter school. Out of curiosity I plugged it in. It did in fact work — and if I had been willing to sit there stealing 6 kilowatts of power for 10 hours, I could have gotten up to 100 percent. This seemed less than ideal. I then tried another charger around the corner at a used dealership. This one had a credit card reader but it did not work.
Scrolling through Google some more, I discovered that if you poke around in the menus it actually tells you the supposed speed of each charger (rated as slow, fast, very fast, or ultra fast). A 10-minute drive across the river was a non-Tesla fast charger at a Chevy dealership, though irritatingly I had to download an app and connect my Apple pay to make it work instead of just tapping my credit card.
Then I learned that the temperature of the battery matters a great deal. When I first plugged in, the charger delivered a measly 28 kilowatts. But then as the battery warmed up, that nearly doubled to 49 kilowatts (as compared to the Kona’s claimed maximum rate of 100 kilowatts). That isn’t particularly fast — but it also demonstrated another lesson, which is that there are advantages to a smaller battery, at just 65 kilowatt-hours. That fairly pitiful charging speed, topping out at less than a seventh of the maximum at modern stations, was still enough to get me from 28 percent to 75 percent in about 35 minutes. If I had been driving a Hummer EV, it would have been more like two hours.
That lesson was underlined charging at home. My house was built in the 1940s and has no outdoor outlets whatsoever, but in the pinch, I could string an extension cord out the window to use the included level 1 charger … to deliver a pathetic 600 watts, or less than the power supply on my gaming PC. Yet this was still enough to add 10-12 percent of charge per day, or about 30 miles, which is more than we drive on average. If I’d gone with the Mach E, it would be more like 20 miles, thanks to its bigger battery.
I learned a more serious lesson the next day going down to sign the paperwork. My wife had to come with me to the dealership, since she owned the Subaru, and therefore my 2-month-old son had to come along as well. With a 75 percent charge, I figured we’d be fine to make it there and back. When we got to the dealership, the car still had 48 percent — surely more than enough to make it back given my prior trip, right?
But then we had to sit at the dealership for three hours thanks to some incomprehensible financing dispute going on in a back room. By the time we finished, moved the car around several times, and grabbed some food on the way out, it was only about 42 percent by the time we got going. As we headed up Route 33, the Kona’s computer informed us we’d arrive with about 35 miles of range to spare. Since it was already well past the boy’s bedtime and I really, really didn’t want to hunt around in the cold for a charger that might or might not work, I decided to risk it.
But by this point it was well past dark, and the temperature was dropping into the low 40s. Meanwhile, what with wife and baby in the back seat, I had to run the heater much more than I had the first time, when I had left the cabin heater low and just used the seat warmer.
It turns out heating and driving uphill sucks battery power. As the temperature fell further into the low 30s, and the Kona zipped up the long grades at Wind Gap and Tannersville, I watched with increasing alarm as the buffer mileage dropped to 30, then 25, then 20. I told myself I would stop to charge if it got below 10 miles of buffer, but it finally stabilized around 15 miles in the Poconos.
It was a genuine case of range anxiety, no question about it, and my wife was ready to strangle me. But there was one last surprise as we crested the ridge and headed down into the Wyoming Valley. On that long downslope, I alternated between coasting and turning up the regenerative braking around corners, which got back another 14 miles of range. We pulled up with 15 percent battery and 29 miles to spare — not so far off the original estimate after all!
This need for planning is the major difference between electric and gas, at least given the current state of America’s charging infrastructure. With a gas car you can assume that range will not change much depending on the weather, that you can run your tank nearly empty with the sole penalty being another few seconds of standing at the pump, and that even the tiniest settlement is virtually guaranteed to have a gas station.
But on an EV trip of any distance you want to charge early and often, and that means some careful route planning. A theoretical 270 mile range means you have more like 160-220 miles you can realistically use, depending significantly on the temperature, wind, number of passengers, and so on. But unless you are in an exceptionally cold and/or depopulated area, it’s not that big of a deal. Just find some charging stations on the route, ideally with good reviews, and stop every hour or two for 20-30 minutes of charging, or less if your car can take mega voltage like the Ioniq 5. (There are several chargers in East Stroudsburg I could have used, for instance.)
You can’t cannonball to cut the trip time down to the absolute minimum, but you also get a chance to stretch out regularly and cut your risk of deep vein thrombosis. Meanwhile, if you can charge at home, your cost of fuel goes down dramatically. I now spend maybe $3 on a week’s worth of driving electricity.
So yes, there are some tradeoffs that come with the EV lifestyle. But even for an EV with a modest battery, driving in the cold mountains of impoverished Appalachia, they are not remotely insurmountable — and everything will only get easier from here on out. More chargers are being built all the time, and soon Tesla’s network will open up to all. You don’t need a 500-mile range battery, or to carry a backup generator around. It just takes a change in mindset.
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The Trump administration has asked a court to re-examine a key permit for Revolution Wind in Rhode Island.
This is Heatmap Daily, an evening news digest written by our executive editor. Subscribe here.
At the end of the day, the biggest threat to the bipartisan permitting deal probably isn’t green groups, the fossil fuel industry, or monopoly utilities. It’s President Trump himself.
The legislative proposal is meant to constrain the president from tampering with clean energy projects — and if it passes, then some of its provisions seem like they could do so. But in order for it to pass, Trump must adhere to the deal that he brokered with the bill’s Senator Democratic negotiators, Sheldon Whitehouse of Rhode Island and Martin Heinrich of New Mexico.
Under that deal, the Trump administration must allow the 30 wind farms held up by what is normally a Department of Defense box-checking exercise to proceed. (Trump himself agreed to allow these projects to move forward, according to Politico reporting from last month.) More broadly, the administration has to make a show of good faith that it will return to what Whitehouse has called “regular order” on wind and solar permits. That could include approving a longer list of more than 200 onshore wind projects held up in the queue.
That somewhat informal deal is now facing its biggest test yet. On Friday, the Department of Justice filed a motion in court to re-examine a key permit granted to Revolution Wind, a nearly complete offshore wind farm being built off the coast of Rhode Island. The filing was first reported by Bloomberg.
Revolution Wind is one of six Biden-era offshore projects that is now operating or at least still moving forward. It could eventually produce as much as 700 megawatts of electricity. (Other offshore wind projects have accepted Trump’s $4 billion payouts.)
This isn’t the first time that the Trump administration has gone after this particular offshore project: The White House fought, and then resoundingly lost, an effort to stop work on Revolution Wind last year. But the timing of the filing — and the fact that it’s happening in Senator Whitehouse’s backyard — could make this filing far more significant.
In a post on X, the White House energy official Jarrod Agen seemed to play down the legal move without fully disowning it.
“This is an old lawsuit brought by the local community—who had serious concerns about this project—against the Biden Administration!,” he wrote. (The lawsuit in question was filed by Green Oceans, an anti-wind-energy group. Its law firm has what The New York Times described as “close ties” to the conservative legal movement.)
The White House still supports permitting reform, Agen added, adding that “the media should stop their attempts to blow up a GREAT deal for the American people!”
Sorry, Jarrod — we’re just doing our job. We asked Senator Heinrich and Whitehouse’s offices for comment, but didn’t hear back before publishing time. We’ll keep following this story.
A bipartisan group of senators proposed major reforms to the country’s environmental laws last month in an effort to speed up the federal approval process for energy projects of all kinds. If it passes, one of the Bipartisan American Affordability and Jobs Act’s biggest changes would be transforming the U.S. court system’s role in federal environmental reviews.
The bill would constrain who can challenge federal environmental decisions in court, which courts can hear those challenges, what plaintiffs can argue in those cases, and what remedies are available when the plaintiffs win. In particular, it would become a lot more difficult — though not impossible — for outside groups to stop construction on a project or vacate a permit if they deemed it to be environmentally risky.
Part of the motivation for the bill, at least among Democrats, is the idea that the National Environmental Policy Act, or NEPA, has become a significant obstacle to building clean energy projects and the infrastructure required to connect them to the grid. The bill includes a number of changes to NEPA that would expedite environmental reviews and prevent legal challenges under NEPA from dragging out project timelines.
But the bill’s restrictions on judicial remedies may be the most significant change, several legal experts told me. “My perhaps overly simplistic view, perhaps a really cynical view, is that the remaining 100 pages of the bill devoted to NEPA are all going to be irrelevant in light of that remedy provision,” said Matthew Littleton, a lawyer who previously served as deputy assistant attorney general at the U.S. Department of Justice’s Environment and Natural Resources Division under the Biden administration.
NEPA is an information-gathering statute. It says that when the federal government makes certain decisions, such as issuing permits or regulatory rules, it must consult with all of the agencies with relevant expertise, invite public comment, and, if the decision could have significant effects on the environment, conduct a wide-ranging assessment of those effects that includes comparisons to alternative actions.
Depending on the decision at hand, the government may have to do some of this analysis under other environmental laws, such as the Clean Air Act and Clean Water Act, but those requirements are narrower. NEPA fills in the gaps. While a Clean Air Act analysis may look at whether a project complies with federal pollution limits, a NEPA analysis would assess the broader effects of the pollution on local communities and surrounding wildlife, and consider whether locating the project elsewhere could accomplish the same goals with reduced risk.
While NEPA can inform an agency’s decision, the law does not require the agency to act on that information. If a NEPA review of an oil leasing program turns up substantial risks, for example, the government can still move forward with it unchanged. If an environmental group sues the government for not considering all of the relevant impacts, or studying enough alternatives, or getting some aspect of the analysis wrong, however, the court can vacate the agency’s decision, or at least issue an injunction on the lease sale while the agency addresses the issue.
A Supreme Court decision last year already significantly narrowed NEPA, giving agencies more discretion to decide how much environmental analysis they need to do on a project’s upstream and downstream effects. Experts expected the ruling to make it much harder for outside groups to win an injunction on a project or vacate a permit.
The new bill would go much farther. If communities or other stakeholders sue the government for violating NEPA and win, the courts could no longer issue an injunction or vacate the government’s decision. The bill would leave the courts with a single remedy: forcing the agency to address whatever gap in its analysis the lawsuit revealed.
To Littleton, this change would make NEPA more or less irrelevant. Today, he explained, agencies and developers face the risk that if they do not do a thorough job complying with NEPA, the courts could suspend their decisions, vacate their permits, or pause construction on their projects. It’s hard to know how big of a role that risk plays in agency decision-making, but if it disappears, so too does the incentive for anyone to spend time on a NEPA analysis.
Agencies are under-resourced and have a lot on their plates, Littleton said. “If at the end of the day you know a court is not going to stop you, even if you completely ignore the statute, you’re going to take the action as quickly as you can, consistent with your other obligations.” In other words, the worst that could happen is that a federal court tells the relevant agency to go back and do some more paperwork while construction continues.
The bill would make the same changes to the National Historic Preservation Act, a similar procedural law that requires agencies to study a decision’s effects on properties of cultural or historic significance. “If Congress has decided that NEPA and the NHPA have outlived their usefulness or do more harm than good, people should be willing to own that and say it and explain why that’s so,” Littleton said. “And if it’s not so, then maybe they need to figure out how to have a far narrower NEPA or NHPA review, but something where it actually matters if you don't do it.”
To be clear, none of this means there will be no way to stop a project from being built or to vacate its permits. Outside groups can still challenge agency actions under the Administrative Procedure Act, Alex Mechanick, an assistant professor at Johns Hopkins and a former senior counselor in the Office of Management and Budget under the Biden administration, told me. The APA is a larger umbrella law that says agencies cannot violate the Constitution or federal regulations or act arbitrarily or capriciously.
“Arbitrary and capricious action is already unlawful under the APA and could lead to agency action being vacated or enjoined regardless of BAAJA,” Mechanick said. A court might find that an agency violated the APA if a decision had undeniably worse environmental costs than benefits, if a less damaging option offered the same benefits, or if the agency simply chose not to analyze a relevant aspect of the decision. If the Interior Department was considering a new oil and gas leasing plan and didn’t consider effects on local wildlife, a court might deem that arbitrary and capricious. If the agency studied those effects, found significant risks, and then ignored them entirely with no explanation, that could also constitute a violation of the APA.
Littleton didn’t disagree with Mechanick’s assessment. If the bill passes, he said, the NEPA process may become the mechanism agencies use to comply with the APA rather than an end in itself.
The bill makes a more far-reaching change to legal challenges under the Clean Water Act. That law requires developers to secure a Section 404 permit when their project involves placing dredged materials into a body of water or wetland. It asks the Army Corps of Engineers to collect public comments, analyze the environmental impacts, and evaluate alternatives — much like NEPA. In this case, however, the analysis is not just procedural. Depending on what it reveals, the Corps may be legally required to deny the permit.
As with NEPA and the NHPA, the Senate bill would remove a federal court’s ability to vacate a Section 404 permit if it finds a deficiency in the Army Corps’ analysis. But the bill also specifically prevents vacatur for challenges under the APA. In either case, there is an exception for if the court finds that the “activities authorized under the permit would present an imminent and substantial danger to human health or the environment.”
Mechanick called this a “timing rule,” since the court’s options will depend on how far along the project is. The agency either has enough time to act before harm is imminent, or it doesn’t. “I don’t understand why you should have to wait until the harm is imminent to enjoin the agency,” he said, “but I suppose the idea is that this is a lighter touch remedy until it’s really a do-or-die moment.”
On Korea’s Westinghouse wishes, a lithium deal, and British heat pumps
Current conditions: New York City’s temperature is set to rise as high as 80 degrees Fahrenheit this week before plunging as the coldest weather so far this season blows into the Northeast • Temperatures in Denver have been above 80 degrees for the past 11 days straight • Nearly 200,000 households, mostly in Florida, are still without electricity after Hurricane Isaias.
In theory, news of President Donald Trump’s deal with Russia to pump millions of tons of diesel into the global market should have eased oil prices. Instead, all three major crude benchmarks spiked Monday by nearly 1.5%. Only West Texas Intermediate, the U.S. metric that has largely evaded the worst knock-on effects of conflict in the Middle East, remained below $100 per barrel. The hike came as the Houthi attacks on Saudi Arabia over the weekend weighed heavily on investors’ minds, eclipsing whatever impact the diesel deal could have had.
Speaking at an industry summit in Riyadh, from which executives from Western oil majors bowed out at the last minute following missile strikes on the airport in the Saudi capital, the head of the country’s state oil company warned that not even Saudi Arabia had the capacity to protect all the supply routes off its coasts for getting hydrocarbons from the region to the world. “No nation, even one as capable and confident as ours, can safeguard them alone,” Aramco CEO Amin Nasser said, according to Arab News.
TotalEnergies took more than $1 billion from the Trump administration to kill off its offshore wind projects. But don’t take that as a sign the French energy behemoth is abandoning American renewables. The company’s joint venture with private equity giant KKR announced a deal to add 700 megawatts of solar to its portfolio of 1.4 gigawatts. The $1.2 billion acquisition includes three utility-scale solar farms in Texas and Ohio that are expected to reach commercial operation in the first quarter of next year.

South Korea is in a bind. The Korea Electric Power Corporation, through its subsidiary Korea Hydro & Nuclear Power, represents the most competent financier and builder of nuclear reactors anywhere in the democratic world, having constructed the United Arab Emirates’ debut atomic power stations relatively on time and on budget compared to U.S., French, and British projects. But the leading Korean reactor, the APR1400, allegedly borrowed from the American nuclear champion Westinghouse’s pressurized water reactor design. A yearslong legal feud ended last year with a settlement that bars the Koreans from bidding on projects in Europe or North America. In a deal this month with the Trump administration to stave off tariffs, Seoul has agreed to help finance and construct six Westinghouse AP1000s and two of its own APR1400s in the U.S., giving the Americans a leg up on nuclear construction and the Koreans a foothold in North America.
In South Korea, where the Westinghouse settlement has widely been considered unfair, the government is signaling other plans to gain more leverage. For starters, KEPCO’s chief executive Kim Dong-cheol said the claim that the settlement requires the company to pay Westinghouse $2 billion per nuclear plant to use its technology was misunderstood. “It is true that $2 billion is the ceiling, but it does not mean we will pay all of it,” he said. But the more eyebrow-raising detail in his interview with the financial newspaper Business Korea is that KEPCO is considering a plan to acquire an equity stake of between 5% and 10% in Westinghouse. Rumors of a potential deal to buy part of Westinghouse have been circulating in the Korean press for weeks now. Anything seems to be on the table these days, but when I have asked multiple sources on the U.S. side about it, all of them shrugged off the possibility to me.
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When The New York Times ran a glowing profile of the lithium startup EnergyX back in 2021, industry sources at the time mocked the coverage to me as too credulous — a sign of how unsophisticated the popular American press was at writing about critical minerals at the time. The Wall Street Journal glazed the firm’s chief executive, Teague Egan, in its own profile three years later. So it was with light surprise and amusement that I read Reuters reporter Ernest Scheyder’s latest story about the company: EnergyX just signed a $2 billion binding offtake to supply the commodities giant Trafigura with the battery metal from Chile and the U.S. It’s one of the largest deals ever tied to direct lithium extraction, the technology EnergyX is trying to commercialize, which uses less water than standard methods of mining the metal. The 10-year contract comes amid growing demand from the stationary battery storage market as the grid and data centers eat what unsteady sales of electric vehicles has left on the plate.
The British government plans to cut hundreds of millions of dollars from the national program to upgrade boilers in England and Wales, providing £9,000, or nearly $12,000, to finance the switch to heat pumps. The cuts, which the Financial Times reported Monday had drawn a backlash against the ruling Labour Party, are part of a broader bid by Prime Minister Andy Burnham to slash £2 billion in the budget to make way for more military spending. The reductions began in June under former Prime Minister Keir Starmer with a study to identify potential cuts. Starmer singled out the Department of Energy Security and Net Zero, particularly after the agency received a 16% annual increase to fund projects such as the nuclear buildout at Sizewell C, carbon capture infrastructure, and insulation to make homes more energy efficient.
The move is sure to ripple across the climate policy world. Roughly a week ago, Daniel Aldana Cohen, an assistant professor at the University of California at Berkeley, was extolling the benefits of ramping up U.S. production of heat pumps in response to soaring heating prices this winter due to the fossil fuel supply crunch. “Every year that we don’t do a wartime mobilization on heat pumps, we’re ruining people’s lives,” the early advocate of a Green New Deal wrote in a post on X. “Heat pumps will always outperform heating oil, cut costs, add summer AC. And would be fantastic for labor, small businesses, worker co-ops.”
As quickly as a spark of atmospheric electricity strikes, the Ford F-150 Lightning disappeared, with the final model of the all-electric pickup truck rolling off the assembly line last year. Now, Bloomberg reports, “it has become one of the most coveted cars in America and a glowing ember in the red-hot market for used electric vehicles.” The price of a used Lightning is 50% to 60% of the sticker price, which one expert told the newswire “is really a sweet spot.”