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The research instead suggests the opposite is true.

When former President Donald Trump was campaigning in Michigan last week, he warned autoworkers that President Biden’s electric vehicle policies would “put an end” to their “way of life.”
“Hundreds of thousands of American jobs, your jobs, will be gone forever,” he said. “By most estimates, under Biden’s electric vehicle mandate, 40% of all U.S. auto jobs will disappear.”
Trump may be exaggerating, but the underlying idea, that electric vehicles require less labor to manufacture than internal combustion engine cars, is the conventional wisdom. It has been circulated for years by automakers, autoworkers, politicians, and journalists. EVs contain fewer parts, the thinking goes, so naturally they will require fewer workers.
That logic seems obvious, which might be why it hasn’t received much scrutiny. But when I tried to find any research supporting it, what I found instead suggested the opposite. A number of analyses showed that electric vehicles could actually require more labor to build than gas-powered cars in the U.S., at least for the foreseeable future.
There are countless news articles and studies that reiterate the point that electric vehicles “have fewer moving parts” or are “less complex” and therefore pose a threat to autoworkers’ jobs. Many cite a 2017 Ford presentation that mentioned a “30% reduction in hours per unit” as a benefit of producing EVs, or former Volkswagen CEO Herbert Diess, who said in 2019 the company would need to make job cuts due to its switch to EVs, which “involve some 30% less effort.” More recently, as the United Auto Workers strike has ramped up, a 2022 quote from Ford’s CEO Jim Farley that “it takes 40% less labor to make an electric car,” has been circulating.
But I couldn’t find any data, research, or even further explanation backing up these figures. Part of the challenge of digging into these claims is that it’s not clear what they even refer to. Are the CEOs talking about the labor required for final assembly, like dropping in the motor and putting on the doors? Are they taking into account the production of components, like the EV battery? Where do they draw the line on what constitutes EV manufacturing?
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Ford didn’t respond directly to my request for more information about its public estimates. Instead, spokesperson Dan Barbossa replied that if I was going to quote Farley, I needed to include his entire quote. After dropping the “40% less labor” statistic, Farley had continued, “So as a family company, we have to insource so that everyone has a role in this world. We have a whole new supply chain to fill out, in batteries and motors and electronics.”
There may be more to Farley’s words than a bit of public relations fluff. His suggestion that building out new supply chains will help people find “a role” aligns with the conclusions of a study that Volkswagen’s independent Sustainability Council commissioned in 2020. It was conducted by the Fraunhofer Institute for Industrial Engineering, a German research group, using Volkswagen company data, and found only minor impacts on employment due to the transition. Losses can be mitigated by “shifting to the production of new components,” it said, like the individual battery cells that make up the battery packs.
One of the findings was that “employment intensity” for the final manufacturing of Volkswagen’s electric ID.3 is only 3% lower than that of the conventional Golf Mk8. The bigger gap is in the labor required to produce the individual components of each car’s drivetrain. The employment intensity of the battery system and electric motor, combined, was about 40% lower than that of the combustion engine and transmission system.
Notably, the study did not include the jobs required to produce the individual battery cells which make up the battery system, because Volkswagen wasn’t producing them at the time. But a more recent analysis of the U.S. manufacturing landscape found that cell production holds the most potential for job creation, and concluded that if you account for this, the transition to EVs could actually result in significantly more jobs.
Turner Cotterman, a McKinsey consultant, led the research as part of his Ph.D. in public policy and engineering at Carnegie Mellon under Associate Professor Kate Whitefoot. He sought out partnerships with U.S.-based automakers and electric vehicle component manufacturers and collected original data from nine companies on the number of hours it takes to complete more than 250 process steps. In some cases he visited the shop floors and personally gathered the data himself. In his final analysis, he also incorporated public data for an additional 78 production process steps. He used the data to model three scenarios where EV and combustion engine powertrains are produced at the average efficiency, as well as a “most efficient” case and a “least efficient” case.
In every case, EV manufacturing required more hours. The conventional powertrains took 4 to 11 worker hours, while the EV powertrains took 15 to 24. “A lot of the confusion sits around, what parts are you counting in this evaluation?” Cotterman told me. “We’re saying that if you were to produce every single component in an EV in the U.S., that the total sum of those powertrain components will be higher than the equivalent ICE components.”

There are a few important caveats to the research. For one, Cotterman stressed that these are present-day numbers, and they might change as EV plants scale up and learn to be more efficient. When he looked at data from Chinese manufacturing plants, they were a lot more efficient than what he saw in the U.S. And that relates to his other point. Currently, most battery components are not made in the U.S.
“With so many battery components made in China and South Korea, a lot of those potential labor hours are being captured by other countries,” he said. “So it's a question of the future American manufacturing workforce — how do we value them? How many opportunities do we want to extend to them?”
Another report published in 2021 by the Economic Policy Institute, a nonpartisan think tank, reached a similar conclusion. It found that the stakes for workers in the EV transition depend largely on public policy efforts to shore up U.S. manufacturing and enhance job quality. “The real challenge is making sure U.S.-based producers can invest enough to become competitive in battery production, and claw back some of the overall sales market share they lost since the Great Recession,” Josh Bivens, chief economist at the institute, told me in an email. “These are much bigger deals than anything about the inherent production process of EVs — and they’re very amenable to policy.”
Automakers have claimed that paying workers more would put them at a disadvantage and hinder their ability to invest in the EV transition. But in a recent blog post, the Economic Policy Institute argued that with the help of subsidies from President Biden’s signature climate law, the Inflation Reduction Act, automakers have “more than enough money” to invest in EVs, pay workers a fair share, and maintain healthy profits.
The IRA created a domestic manufacturing tax credit that subsidizes the production of battery cells to the tune of $35 per kilowatt-hour of capacity. It offers an additional $10 per kilowatt-hour tax credit for the domestic production of battery modules, or the process of assembling the cells into arrays that later get put into battery packs. And there’s another incentive for automakers to onshore battery production — it will help their vehicles qualify for the IRA’s consumer tax credit.
According to a database maintained by the advocacy group Climate Power, there have been about 10 EV battery manufacturing plant projects announced in the U.S. since the IRA was passed, at least some of which will produce cells.
So is the crux of the matter that EV job losses or gains all come down to batteries? Not necessarily.
Whether or not the U.S. is able to build up domestic battery production, early evidence of the EV transition in the United States shows that EVs may require more labor, even in the final assembly stages.
Anna Stefanopoulou, a professor of mechanical engineering at the University of Michigan, has been investigating three manufacturing sites that used to produce conventional cars and are now producing EVs: A Tesla factory in California that used to be a jointly-owned facility between GM and Toyota that produced Pontiacs and Corollas; a Rivian plant in Illinois that previously produced Mitsubishis; and the Orion Assembly plant in Michigan, where GM transitioned from producing Chevy Sonics and Buick Veranos to electric Chevy Bolts.
Her research has not been peer reviewed or published yet, but Stefanopoulou told me that after analyzing publicly available data sources for employment and output at each plant, she found that productivity had gone down in all three cases. Each one is producing fewer vehicles per worker than they were before, meaning it’s taking more people per vehicle to produce electric cars. The California site, which has been producing EVs for the longest out of the three, showed the most dramatic change. At its peak, the GM/Toyota plant produced 80 vehicles per person per year. The Tesla plant averages 30.
Stefanopoulou believes the data reflects the nascent state of U.S. electric vehicle manufacturing. She predicts that after a decade or so, as processes become more streamlined, the commonly-held belief that EV assembly requires less labor will turn out to be correct. However, she also said that if she were to consider battery cell production, as Cotterman did, EV production on the whole could require more people.
She also stressed that her data is not conclusive, and poses many more questions. For example, she found that overall production per worker in the U.S. is falling. So does the labor intensity at the EV plants reflect something specific about those factories, or a bigger issue in U.S. manufacturing productivity?
It’s also been hard for her team to identify what was actually being produced at each plant at any given time. For example, the previous owners of the California plant did not assemble engines there, but the Tesla factory is assembling battery packs. So that might explain why productivity is so much lower now. But there are a lot of unknowns. “Over the years, they changed their patterns,” she told me. “They take the cells and assemble the pack, or occasionally they manufacture cells. So we don’t know exactly what kind of work the plants include. We know the outputs are vehicles, but what does assembly include?”
In any case, Stefanopoulou is torn about what conclusion to draw from her findings on productivity. “Sometimes I don’t know if what I will present in my paper will be good news or bad news,” she told me. “Maybe it’s good news for our people that are involved, but at the end, you know, we need to be productive also, so that we can actually lower the costs so people can afford buying electric vehicles.”
What seems clear is that whether the transition results in more jobs or fewer depends a lot on which processes you’re including, how many of them will ultimately be done domestically, and how much will get streamlined through automation and other efficiency measures.
At the same time, topline job numbers aren’t the full story. The jobs created in the EV transition will certainly not all resemble the jobs that are lost. They may not be located in the same places, or require the same set of skills. Workers are right to be worried about upheaval.
But these are things that can be managed, if automakers are willing to come to the table with workers, and vice versa. For example, when Ford negotiated the closure of its Romeo Engine Plant at the end of last year, every employee was offered either a buyout or a transfer to another facility. Barbossa, the Ford spokesperson, told me many are now working about 20 minutes away, at the Van Dyke Electric Powertrain Center, building EV power units for the F-150 Lightning and hybrid powertrains for the Maverick and F-150.
I reached out to the United Autoworkers to get their thoughts on these studies, but the union did not respond to my questions. The UAW does appear to have a good handle on the stakes of battery manufacturing, however. Last week, Jim Farley of Ford provided an update on the negotiations, and said that “the UAW is holding the deal hostage over the battery plants.”
Farley vowed that none of its workers will lose their jobs due to battery plants during the next contract period. “In fact, for the foreseeable future we will have to hire more workers as some workers retire, in order to keep up with demand,” he said. “We are open to working with the union on a fair deal for battery plants, but these are multi-billion investments and they have to make business sense.”
Read more about electric vehicles and labor:
What the UAW Wants Exactly — and What It Means for Electric Cars
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My colleague Emily Pontecorvo has a fascinating story today about Net Power, an energy and power development company whose technology once seemed key to decarbonizing the country’s electricity grid.
When Net Power went public in 2023, it was working on a natural gas-burning power plant that would generate little to no emissions in part by using carbon capture and storage. Its invention seemed to have big implications, and not just for the company’s bottom line: Back then, the Environmental Protection Agency was drafting climate rules that would have required new natural gas plants built in the 2030s to capture their carbon dioxide emissions. Net Power’s technology seemed like one of the best available ways to meet that standard.
Cut to 2026, and the world looks different. Thanks to the artificial intelligence boom, electricity demand is surging. But Net Power hasn’t successfully commercialized its proprietary power plant technology. Even if it had, few companies are willing to pay the high premium required by Net Power’s technology, especially when cheaper options are available. And the government certainly isn’t going to require it. Emily’s story reveals what happened next.
When I helped start Heatmap more than three years ago, I never thought I would write this much about data centers. I believed that electricity demand growth was inevitable, sure, and I thought the U.S. power grid had to expand for the country to decarbonize. But I didn’t foresee such a staggering near-term surge in electricity demand. (To be fair, even long-time students of the computing industry’s energy use didn’t see the coming increase, either.)
What I didn’t anticipate — or understand — were two fast-moving trends. The first was that the AI models were responding to scale: the more text or images they consumed, or training they received, or (crucially) computational power they had access to, the better they got. The second was that Wall Street was happy to pay to continue that speedy scale-up. As long as models kept getting better, investors were willing to keep lending or investing more money to the companies making them. Through the power of those two scaling functions, the data center boom became one of the biggest infrastructure buildouts in American history.
In recent days, the second of those trends has started to falter. After a surprisingly hot inflation report last week, and a disclosure on Wednesday evening that Meta has gone free cash flow negative to finance its ongoing AI buildout, stocks with any proximity to AI or data centers stumbled on Wall Street today. The data center developers Coreweave and Vistra were each down about 10%, while Microsoft, Alphabet, and Nvidia all fell in daily trading. Meta’s stock lost almost 7% of its value; GE Vernova, which produces gas turbines, was down 10%.
These declines look more significant when you zoom out. Since late June, a good chunk of the AI portfolio has sagged into the red. Coreweave’s stock is down 54% over the past six months. Alphabet and GE Vernova have also posted declines since the summer. (The trend isn’t uniform: Nvidia and Microsoft are still very much in the green.)
None of this, to be sure, guarantees that the AI boom is ending or even slowing down. But this finance-applied friction is what such a slowdown could look like. Investors aren’t (yet) saying that AI is a business dud, to be clear, just that companies perhaps don’t need to go and construct all this stuff so fast. And given what the data center buildout has meant for energy construction — not to mention greenhouse gas emissions — that’s a trend nobody in climate or energy can ignore.
The zero-emission pioneer is doing the dirty work for the AI boom.
All kinds of companies have refashioned themselves to exploit the AI boom. A bitcoin miner became a data center developer, a shoemaker is building GPUs, and an electric vehicle company is integrating its powertrains into server racks.
Now, a company that once aspired to build one of the lowest-emitting power plants has pivoted to building one of the dirtiest in order to meet data centers’ requirement for speed to power above all. Net Power was founded to pioneer a new form of natural gas power plant with zero emissions, but it has given up on that technology and recently acquired 10 natural gas reciprocating engines that it plans to co-locate with a data center on the site intended for its first commercial plant.
“We believe the clean piece is important,” Net Power CEO Danny Rice said during an August earnings call when he announced the company’s pivot to building unabated natural gas plants. “But just as it’s always been, it will only come at scale once society’s basic energy pillars of reliable, affordable power are fully in place. Power demand is outstripping supply today.”
Net Power’s pivot is a sign not only that the AI boom has eroded market appetite for clean power, but that U.S. policies supporting carbon capture — primarily the 45Q tax credit that President Trump’s One Big Beautiful Bill Act recently expanded — are still not enough to support the technology’s deployment in the power sector.
“The long history of doing CCS in the United States is there isn’t enough public funding to get companies to deploy it at scale,” Jack Andreasen Cavanaugh, a senior research associate at Columbia University’s Center on Global Energy Policy, told me.
This is actually the second major pivot the company has made in less than a year. Last November, Net Power was still testing its proprietary oxy-combustion technology at its demonstration site in La Porte, Texas. The tech was designed to burn natural gas in a chamber with pure oxygen, producing a purer stream of CO2 than when natural gas is burned in regular air. Net Power’s system could recycle some of that CO2 for power generation and capture the rest more efficiently than a conventional gas plant could. The company had not yet demonstrated that the system could generate more energy than it used, however.
By that point, Net Power had determined that its oxy-combustion plants, if they ever even did generate net power, would not be economically competitive anytime soon. In its 2025 Q3 financial report, the company said it had “decided to broaden the scope of its business” and develop more conventional natural gas plants with carbon capture equipment tacked on. It signed a letter of intent with Entropy, a Canadian company building “post-combustion” carbon capture equipment, to bring the tech to the United States, and ordered two 30-megawatt Siemens natural gas turbines for 2028 delivery.
“For us and everyone else in the power and data center space these days, speed is everything,” Rice said at the time. “We believe gas turbines with [post-combustion capture] can and should be the fastest-to-market and most cost-competitive clean, firm solution for our prospective customers.”
He told investors that rising costs were one of the setbacks Net Power faced in building its first-of-a-kind oxy-combustion plant. It was highly unlikely the company could finance and build a $1.7 billion, 200-megawatt plant before completing all its testing, he said. The best-case scenario for the plant to come online was 2030 or 2031, and costs might keep rising with inflation. The company could either bet on that prospect and keep bleeding cash, or “slow down that spending in order to free up some of our resources for near-term accretive opportunities.” As a public company with shareholders to answer to, there was really only one choice.
By the end of 2025, Net Power decided to suspend its oxy-combustion development and testing activities altogether, according to its year-end SEC filing.
Six months later, the company’s thesis changed again. Gas turbines with post-combustion capture, it turned out, were not the “fastest-to-market and most cost-competitive” solutions that the company had hoped they’d be. Whereas once upon a time, electricity buyers considered a range of factors when shopping around for power, including carbon emissions, the reality was that they were now only looking for three qualities: speed, reliability, and scale. “Natural gas power generation, co-located with customer load, and deployable on a fast timeline, is how we expect to meet that demand today,” Rice told investors, adding that the company hoped to add carbon capture to its projects in the future.
To date, only one proposed U.S. natural gas plant with carbon capture has announced a deal to sell its prospective power. In October 2025, Google signed a power purchase agreement with the Broadwing Energy Center, an Illinois plant under development by a company called Low Carbon Infrastructure.
“There is a massive demand for unabated gas right now, and there is much less of a demand for carbon capture,” Cavanaugh said. He told me there are still lots of conversations happening between hyperscalers and carbon capture companies, but the physical realities and costs of capturing, transporting, and storing carbon from natural gas plants remain obstacles.
The Global CCS Institute published its annual Global Status of CCS report this week, which found more than 266 carbon capture, transport, or storage projects are under development in the U.S., but permitting delays and policy uncertainty are stalling their progress. “Inflation and rising capital costs have weakened project economics, reducing the effectiveness of existing policies, such as tax and investment credits,” the report said.
That doesn’t mean there aren’t still companies trying. Net Power may have given up on oxy-combustion power plants for now, but Arbor Energy, a startup founded by former SpaceX engineers, is just ramping up. Arbor announced a milestone in the development of its own oxy-combustion power generator last week, running a key piece of its system — a supercritical CO2 turbocompressor — for more than two hours at high speeds.
Arbor differentiates itself by using 3D-printed turbines and developing smaller, more modular plants. It’s scaling more incrementally than Net Power tried to, starting with a 1-megawatt demonstration plant in California that is “weeks away” from operating, the company’s Chief Operating Officer Alicia Harmon told me — although the project won’t include carbon storage. It plans to build a 25-megawatt demonstration plant by 2028, also sans storage, before manufacturing commercial-scale systems.
Arbor actually went through a pivot of its own due to the data center boom. The founders originally planned to focus on bioenergy with carbon removal, using the oxy-combustion technology to generate power from biomass and storing the resulting CO2 underground. Over time, though, it became clear that demand for power outpaced demand for carbon removal, and natural gas was more abundant than biomass.
I asked Harmon whether the company thought there was market demand for carbon-capture gas plants. Is anyone willing to pay that green premium right now? “Honestly, my answer is no,” she said, but the company sees a path to erasing the green premium by the early 2030s. She added that Arbor’s technology is already “very close” to parity with combined-cycle natural gas plants when the 45Q tax credit is taken into account.
Last month, Net Power announced it had acquired 123 megawatts’ worth of Wärtsilä reciprocating engines, in addition to the Siemens turbines it had already ordered. Reciprocating engines are among the dirtiest natural gas power-generation technologies. A recent report from Earthjustice estimated that a 1-gigawatt plant powered by reciprocating engines would emit 1.5 times as much CO2 per year as one powered by the “combined cycle” technology most modern plants use, and twice as much nitrogen oxides and fine particulate matter. It has not yet disclosed any data center partners to sell the power to.
Net Power declined to comment on this story.
Ben Allen wants to reform the existing market. Jane Kim wants a revolution.
From Crescent City to Coronado, California voters are facing decisions on a down-ballot strewn with over a dozen propositions and a series of statewide Democrat-versus-Republican races with mostly foregone conclusions.
And then there’s the insurance commissioner.
In the race to oversee California’s insurance market, a $452 billion-in-premium-volume monster imperiled by insurer defections and disaster risks, Democratic State Senator Ben Allen, whose district includes Pacific Palisades, is facing off against Jane Kim, a progressive former San Francisco supervisor.
Kim has the support of Vermont Senator Bernie Sanders — it’s the first thing you see about her when you Google her campaign. She previously served as his California political director during the 2020 presidential race, and she appeared earlier this month at an event with the senator in support of the state’s proposed billionaire wealth tax.
Allen, by contrast, won the endorsement of the state’s Democratic Party and its two incumbent senators.
There has been little public polling of the race, but one September survey showed Kim leading Allen 25% to 18%, with more than half the electorate undecided.
“My opponent and I are not even running for the same office,” Kim told me. “He’s running for what this office used to be, and I’m running for what this office could be.”
Allen wasn’t worried about Kim’s characterization in my interview with him, telling me, “I want to fix the market that we have and make it work. My opponent wants to build a new state insurer that nobody has priced.”
Nowhere are the stakes of insurance regulation higher than in California. On its own, the state’s insurance market would be the third largest in the world, according to the National Association of Insurance Commissioners. Homeowner insurance premiums have risen 84% from the end of 2020 to March 2026, according to research from Stanford’s Climate and Energy Policy Program. Several large insurers have either left the market entirely or stopped writing new policies.
California’s creaky and complex regulatory environment for insurers has combined with its famously flammable environment (all beset by a warming climate) to put regular policyholders at risk of losing their policies or bailing out those who can’t get covered. “Climate risks grow, and our mechanisms for dealing with it lag behind,” Matt Weiner, the chief executive of the wildfire policy group Megafire Action, told me. (Weiner said he was supporting Allen in his personal capacity).
Rates for homes insured by the FAIR Plan, the barebones insurer of last resort, have more than doubled from about 2% to 5% over that same period, with FAIR Plan coverage spreading from just high-risk areas to even areas with low and moderate wildfire risk. The plan required a $1 billion assessment from the state’s insurers in 2025 following major Southern California fires. “This trend is a symptom of many homeowners’ inability to secure insurance in the conventional market,” according to the Stanford researchers.
Allen seeks to make the insurance market work better, building on reforms implemented by current Insurance Commissioner Ricardo Lara. Allen described the reforms, which encourage insurers to write policies in high-risk areas and allow them to use forward-looking projections, as a “bit of a band-aid” that doesn’t “actually get to the core of the problem, which is making these communities less risky.”
Allen’s plan for the California insurance market involves both reviewing rate proposals more quickly, incorporating more data into those rates (which may push rates up, but also keep insurers in the market), and mobilizing the whole of government to invest in home hardening and resilience to lower risk and bring premiums down. Allen wants to, well, insure “that risk reduction is actually incentivized and rewarded by the insurance market,” he told me.
This would mean that “there will continue to be certain properties that are going to be so high risk that they really will and ought to be paying significantly more than everybody else,” he added.
When I asked him to elaborate on his vision for California’s insurance future, he told me, “My hope is that when a family and a neighborhood commit to hardening defensible space and community-scale mitigation, that should show up on the bill.”
Jane Kim, on the other hand, is interested in an insurance revolution, which would require — as her most famous supporter might put it — a political revolution as well. Her centerpiece proposal will be familiar from anyone who has followed Sanders’ career: a single-payer disaster insurer.
The plan, which she told me was a “concept and a proposal,” would be funded by a levy placed on insurers, and then a public insurer would invest in the market, buy reinsurance, and pay out claims. (Her opponents have criticized her for not being forthcoming enough with details). She says her plan would not be able to cover a Palisades- or Altadena-level fire in its first year, “but no insurance company can cover a catastrophe of that level.”
The nonprofit nature of the program, she adds, would let the state fund mitigation work directly. While such a program would require legislative action, “the great thing about campaigns is that this is trying to debate big ideas with voters,” Kim said.
In response, Allen cited a report from the California Earthquake Authority, which modeled a state disaster insurer (albeit not Kim’s plan specifically) could require $25 billion in capitalization. A more thinly capitalized insurer could mean $2,000 assessments on every policyholder in the state to cover an extreme wildfire disaster, the report said. “That’s the honest price of what she’s proposing,” Allen said.
“I also have a plan that’s actually grounded in reality and fixing the problems right now. It's not based on some pie-in-the-sky set of ideas that have no precedent, that have no real meat on the bones,” Allen told me.
One of Allen and Kim’s former opponents, Patrick Wolff, who fell short in the top-two primary election in June, told me that “the charitable interpretation of Kim’s platform is she does not think the current system can be made to work, and so she essentially wants to redesign and reimagine the entire system.” (Wolff has endorsed Allen). But, he added, “she’s coming at it from a set of solutions that were baked-in before she started, and then she's fitting [those] into her campaign.”
Moira Birss, a senior fellow at the Climate and Community Institute who said she had “provided input” to Kim’s campaign, but wasn’t speaking on its behalf, told me she “really recognizes that we are yet again in a situation where the private insurance market is not responding to a need that we as communities and as society have for this financial safety net of disaster insurance, and that we need a public approach.” She said the plan would build on lessons learned from New Zealand, which has public natural disaster insurance funded through a levy on fire insurance, and from the National Flood Insurance Program and the FAIR Plan.
Kim is happy to embrace the more ideologically charged vision of her campaign, telling me, “I am talking about transforming this office to be a place where we are leading on, and taking on, economic inequity, a wealth gap, and the climate crisis.
“I don’t even view my opponent as Ben Allen — I’m not running against Ben Allen,” she went on. “I’m running against the status quo.”