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From what it means for America’s climate goals to how it might make American cars smaller again

The Biden administration just kicked off the next phase of the electric-vehicle revolution.
The Environmental Protection Agency unveiled Wednesday some of the world’s most aggressive climate rules on the transportation sector, a sweeping effort that aims to ensure that two-thirds of new cars, SUVs, and pickups — and one-quarter of new heavy-duty trucks — sold in the United States in 2032 will be all electric.
The rules, which are the most ambitious attempt to regulate greenhouse-gas pollution in American history, would put the country at the forefront of the global transition to electric vehicles. If adopted and enforced as proposed, the new standards could eventually prevent 10 billion tons of carbon pollution, roughly double America’s total annual emissions last year, the EPA says.
The rules would roughly halve carbon pollution from America’s massive car and truck fleet, the world’s third largest, within a decade. Such a cut is in line with Biden’s Paris Agreement goal of cutting carbon pollution from across the economy in half by 2030.
Transportation generates more carbon pollution than any other part of the U.S. economy. America’s hundreds of millions of cars, SUVs, pickups, 18-wheelers, and other vehicles generated roughly 25% of total U.S. carbon emissions last year, a figure roughly equal to the entire power sector’s.
In short, the proposal is a big deal with many implications. Here are seven of them.

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Every country around the world must cut its emissions in half by 2030 in order for the world to avoid 1.5 degrees Celsius of temperature rise, according to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. That goal, enshrined in the Paris Agreement, is a widely used benchmark for the arrival of climate change’s worst impacts — deadly heat waves, stronger storms, and a near total die-off of coral reefs.
The new proposal would bring America’s cars and trucks roughly in line with that requirement. According to an EPA estimate, the vehicle fleet’s net carbon emissions would be 46% lower in 2032 than they stand today.
That means that rules of this ambition and stringency are a necessary part of meeting America’s goals under the Paris Agreement. The United States has pledged to halve its carbon emissions, as compared to its all-time high, by 2020. The country is not on track to meet that goal today, but robust federal, state, and corporate action — including strict vehicle rules — could help it get there, a recent report from the Rhodium Group, an energy-research firm, found.

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Until this week, California and the European Union had been leading the world’s transition to electric vehicles. Both jurisdictions have pledged to ban sales of new fossil-fuel-powered cars after 2035 and set aggressive targets to meet that goal — although Europe recently watered down its commitment by allowing some cars to burn synthetic fuels.
The United States hasn’t issued a similar ban. But under the new rules, its timeline for adopting EVs will come close to both jurisdictions — although it may slightly lag California’s. By 2030, EVs will make up about 58% of new vehicles sold in Europe, according to the think tank Transportation & Environment; that is roughly in line with the EPA’s goals.
California, meanwhile, expects two-thirds of new car sales to be EVs by the same year, putting it ahead of the EPA’s proposal. The difference between California’s targets and the EPA’s may come down to technical accounting differences, however. The Washington Post has reported that the new EPA rules are meant to harmonize the national standards with California’s.

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With or without the rules, the United States was already likely to see far more EVs in the future. Ford has said that it would aim for half of its global sales to be electric by 2030, and Stellantis, which owns Chrysler and Jeep, announced that half of its American sales and all its European sales must be all-electric by that same date. General Motors has pledged to sell only EVs after 2035. In fact, the EPA expects that automakers are collectively on track for 44% of vehicle sales to be electric by 2030 without any changes to emissions rules.
But every manufacturer is on a different timeline, and some weren’t planning to move quite this quickly. John Bozella, the president of Alliance for Automotive Innovation, has struck a skeptical note about the proposal. “Remember this: A lot has to go right for this massive — and unprecedented — change in our automotive market and industrial base to succeed,” he told The New York Times.
The proposed rules would unify the industry and push it a bit further than current plans suggest.

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The EPA’s proposal would see sales of all-electric heavy trucks grow beginning with model year 2027. The agency estimates that by 2032, some 50% of “vocational” vehicles sold — like delivery trucks, garbage trucks, and cement mixers — will be zero-emissions, as well as 35% of short-haul tractors and 25% of long-haul tractor trailers. This would save about 1.8 billion tons of CO2 through 2055 — roughly equivalent to one year’s worth of emissions from the transportation sector.
But the proposal falls short of where the market is already headed, some environmental groups pointed out. “It’s not driving manufacturers to do anything,” said Paul Cort, director of Earthjustice’s Right to Zero campaign. “It’s following what’s happening in the market in a very conservative way.”
Last year, California passed rules requiring 60% of vocational truck sales and 40% of tractors to be zero-emissions by 2032. Daimler, the world’s largest truck manufacturer, has said that zero emissions trucks would make up 60% of its truck sales by 2030 and 100% by 2039. Volvo Trucks, another major player, said it aims for 50% of its vehicle deliveries to be electric by 2030.

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One of the more interesting aspects of the new rules is that they pick up on a controversy that has been running on and off for the past 13 years.
In 2010, the Obama administration issued the first-ever greenhouse-gas regulations for light-duty cars, SUVs, and trucks. In order to avoid a Supreme Court challenge to the rules, the White House did something unprecedented: It got every automaker to agree to meet the standards even before they became law.
This was a milestone in the history of American environmental law. Because the automakers agreed to the rules, they were in effect conceding that the EPA had the legal authority to regulate their greenhouse-gas pollution in the first place. That shored up the EPA’s legal authority to limit greenhouse gases from any part of the economy, allowing the agency to move on to limiting carbon pollution from power plants and factories.
But that acquiescence came at a cost. The Obama administration agreed to what are called “vehicle footprint” provisions, which put its rules on a sliding scale based on vehicle size. Essentially, these footprint provisions said that a larger vehicle — such as a three-row SUV or full-sized pickup — did not have to meet the same standards as a compact sedan. What’s more, an automaker only had to meet the standards that matched the footprint of the cars it actually sold. In other words, a company that sold only SUVs and pickups would face lower overall requirements than one that also sold sedans, coupes, and station wagons.
Some of this decision was out of Obama’s hands: Congress had required that the Department of Transportation, which issues a similar set of rules, consider vehicle footprint in laws that passed in 2007 and 1975. Those same laws also created the regulatory divide between cars and trucks.
But over the past decade, SUV and truck sales have boomed in the United States, while the market for old-fashioned cars has withered. In 2019, SUVs outsold cars two to one; big SUVs and trucks of every type now make up nearly half the new car market. In the past decade, too, the crossover — a new type of car-like vehicle that resembles a light-duty truck — has come to dominate the American road. This has had repercussions not just for emissions, but pedestrian fatalities as well.
Researchers have argued that the footprint rules may be at least partially to blame for this trend. In 2018, economists at the University of Chicago and UC Berkeley argued Japan’s tailpipe rules, which also include a footprint mechanism, pushed automakers to super-size their cars. Modeling studies have reached the same conclusion about the American rules.
For the first time, the EPA’s proposal seems to recognize this criticism and tries to address it. The new rules make the greenhouse-gas requirements for cars and trucks more similar than they have been in the past, so as to not “inadvertently provide an incentive for manufacturers to change the size or regulatory class of vehicles as a compliance strategy,” the EPA says in a regulatory filing.
The new rules also tighten requirements on big cars and trucks so that automakers can’t simply meet the rules by enlarging their vehicles.
These changes may not reverse the trend toward larger cars. It might even reveal how much cars’ recent growth is driven by consumer taste: SUVs’ share of the new car market has been growing almost without exception since the Ford Explorer debuted in 1991. But it marks the first admission by the agency that in trying to secure a climate win, it may have accidentally created a monster.

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The EPA is trumpeting the energy security benefits of the proposal, in addition to its climate benefits.
While the U.S. is a net exporter of crude — and that’s not expected to change in the coming decades — U.S. refineries still rely on “significant imports of heavy crude which could be subject to supply disruptions,” the agency notes. This reliance ties the U.S. to authoritarian regimes around the world and also exposes American consumers to wilder swings in gas prices.
But the new greenhouse gas rules are expected to severely diminish the country’s dependence on foreign oil. Between cars and trucks, the rules would cut crude oil imports by 124 million barrels per year by 2030, and 1 billion barrels in 2050. For context, the United States imported about 2.2 billion barrels of crude oil in 2021.
This would also be a turning point for gas stations. Americans consumed about 135 billion gallons of gasoline in 2022. The rules would cut into gas sales by about 6.5 billion gallons by 2030, and by more than 50 billion gallons by 2050. Gas stations are going to have to adapt or fade away.

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Although it may seem like these new electric vehicles could tax our aging, stressed electricity grid, the EPA claims these rules won’t change the status quo very much. The agency estimates the rules would require a small, 0.4% increase in electricity generation to meet new EV demand by 2030 compared to business as usual, with generation needs increasing by 4% by 2050. “The expected increase in electric power demand attributable to vehicle electrification is not expected to adversely affect grid reliability,” the EPA wrote.
Still, that’s compared to the trajectory we’re already on. With or without these rules, we’ll need a lot of investment in new power generation and reliability improvements in the coming years to handle an electrifying economy. “Standards or no standards, we have to have grid operators preparing for EVs,” said Samantha Houston, a senior vehicles analyst at the Union of Concerned Scientists.
The reduction in greenhouse gas emissions from replacing gas cars will also far outweigh any emissions related to increased power demands. The EPA estimates that between now and 2055, the rules could drive up power plant pollution by 710 million metric tons, but will cut emissions from cars by 8 billion tons.
This article was last updated on April 13 at 12:37 PM ET.
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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. Yet given Trump’s fealty to the industry in virtually every other context, his comments are striking and make his political judgement around the war all the more perplexing. The president chose to go to war with Iran — and the almost certain outcome of that conflict, in any world, was going to be higher oil prices. If anything, the war has moved crude less than analysts would have thought. What was Trump expecting here?
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 they reflect how much 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.