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Why one of our best tools to fight climate change suffers on a hotter planet.

If the world is going to slash greenhouse emissions from transportation, then we need a vast number of drivers to switch from fossil fuel engines to electric cars powered by renewable energy. Yet the EVs we need to mitigate further climate damage might, in one way, be ill-suited to the warmer and more extreme climate we’ve already created.
You may have heard that frigid temps are no friend of the electric vehicle. That is true, since extreme cold is a two-pronged problem. First, physical processes in the battery happen more slowly if it’s chilly out. When the mercury drops, my Tesla Model 3 displays a little snowflake icon to warn me the battery unit is too cold to actually use all the range that should be in there. The second problem is maintaining a comfortable cabin. The battery expends a lot of energy generating enough heat to keep the interior warm for its occupants when the temperatures fall to freezing or below.
When it comes to hot days, that second problem is the big one. The agency Recurrent completed a study this month that demonstrated just how much range is lost on sweltering days like those of this month’s nationwide heat wave.
As long as the afternoon high temperature doesn’t get too high, an EV’s range loss is manageable. With an outside temp of 80 degrees Fahrenheit, they found the car loses only 2.8% of its range to keep the cabin at 70 degrees. Even at 90 degrees, the loss reaches just 5%. That amounts to just 10 miles lost from a 200-mile EV. You might not even notice it — it’s probably not that far off from what’s lost by driving 80 miles per hour down the freeway instead of the posted speed limit of 65.
When it’s dangerously hot out, though, the story changes quickly. At 95 degrees outside, the average EV loses 15% of its potential range. At 100 degrees outside, the car suffers a staggering 31% range loss to maintain 70 degrees inside the car. The bigger the difference between the outside temperature and the desired inside temperature, the more of your juice is lost to climate control rather than moving the vehicle. This is why range loss is typically worse in winter — a 10-degree day in Duluth means you’re 60 degrees away from the desired 70 Fahrenheit, while a 110-degree day in Phoenix is “only” 40 degrees from the target.
I’ve seen this phenomenon first-hand during scorching trips across the desert from Los Angeles to Las Vegas or up the interstate toward the San Francisco Bay Area, where the drive passed through areas that exceeded 110 degrees. The car offers an estimate for how much will be left on the battery upon arrival at the next charging stop — then that estimate slowly dips lower and lower as more energy is expended just on air conditioning. After a few anxious drives, I learned to hoard a bit more charge than the car thinks it needs to make it comfortably to the next station.
There is also the possibility that lots of high-temperature driving will cause long-term damage to the battery’s electrolyte or other components. There isn’t too much to do about this one other than limiting how often you drive on extreme days, if you can, and hope that future battery materials that are more resistant to heat become a reality sooner rather than later.
However, there are ways to mitigate the EV heat problem during your drive time. It takes more energy to air-condition the cabin down to the proper temperature than it does to maintain the temperature. So, if you’re plugged in to charge at home or at a public charger, have your vehicle reach the desired temp before you unplug and leave.
Also, the figures in Recurrent’s study are based on setting the climate control to 70 degrees. If you and your passengers can cope with a higher cabin temperature, say 75 degrees, then you’re shortening the difference by 5 degrees and giving your battery a break. (Plenty of EV adopters have gone through a moment of panic where they thought they might need to turn off the climate control entirely to ensure they reached their next plug-in.)
Should the planet’s new normal of extreme heat deter you from going electric? First, remember the manta that experts repeat as a rebuttal to range anxiety: Most people do the vast majority of their driving close to home. Running the A/C on max to survive an August trip to Trader Joe’s isn’t going to make your EV battery hit zero unless you were too low to begin with.
If you’re really worried about the extreme temperatures of your home region, then splurge for range. I’ve recommended this before regardless of where you live and drive. But if you live in the middle of the desert and can afford the longer-range version of a particular EV, then buy it and save yourself the mental strain of wondering whether the summer sun will limit how far you can really drive your car.
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There is a heat wave in Europe, the world’s fastest warming continent. And so, as you may have heard, a perennial topic of online climate discourse has returned: Why don’t more Europeans have air conditioning?
I’m partially convinced this is psy op, or at least a figment of how social media organizes attention. I have a hypothesis that various “For You” page algorithms, especially that of the social network X, began to reward content that performed unusually well across national borders a few years ago. Since then, the amount of America vs. Europe content has surged. (Of course, writers have been comparing American and European lifestyles for much longer than that.)
Suffice it to say, though: It’s a fraught topic. I’ve assumed that as extreme heat gets worse as the climate changes, Europeans will simply get on with it and install AC, much as Americans in the Pacific Northwest have done. Yet there are cultural and regulatory obstacles to AC’s growth in Europe.
I’m sure I’ll write about it in the future, but for now I want to get a grip on the facts themselves. And so as a Friday special, I present to you — the facts about European AC, as I understand it:
Thanks so much for reading, and talk soon.
The movement against data centers is raising up a raison d'etre of the anti-renewables movement: protecting would-be farmland.
Farm owners and operators across the U.S. are winning national headlines almost every week for rejecting big dollar offers from data center developers. In Hanover County, Virginia, protestors are chanting “Grow Tomatoes, Not Data Centers.” In Pennsylvania and elsewhere, Republican legislators are mulling proposals to block the sale of so-called “prime farmland” for data center development. In Texas, the fight over data center development has engulfed the race for the state’s ag commissioner seat. In the Midwest, where agriculture reigns supreme, statewide races and congressional campaigns are slowly but surely being defined by the issue. Like in Nebraska where Austin Ahlman, an independent candidate running for Congress in Nebraska’s first district, told me he believes the data center backlash is reflective of a populist politics that broadly criticize elites and top-down control of the economy: “I think sometimes people misunderstand the anxieties of rural Americans when it comes to these data centers because a lot of their fears are about control long term.”
Unlike the farmland backlash around renewable energy development, the loudest critics are on the anti-monopolist left. On Wednesday, the prominent opposition group Food and Water Watch signaled farmland could soon be a watchword in the national data center debate – in a fashion analogous to what we’ve seen with renewable energy. The organization’s blog post entitled “The AI Data Center Boom Is Coming for Farmers” declared data centers verboten because of the threat they posed to “small and midsized family farmers.” Mitch Jones, deputy director of the campaign outfit, said he believes the threat to farmland is “a compelling reason to oppose data center development” but that his organization’s fight is primarily focused on protecting small business owners and an anti-monopoly sentiment.
“If data centers are coming into their areas, this puts even more pressure on them. It drives up the cost of their electricity, just as it does anyone else. It competes with them for water for crops, and it affects the value of their land in a perverse way,” Jones told me.
None of this should be surprising. An agricultural workforce has always been a good barometer for figuring out if a community will accept new infrastructure of any kind. We’ve seen as much time and time again with renewable energy, carbon capture, fossil energy and mining, just to name a few industries.
This same rule is true with data centers. In April, county commissioners in Kosciusko County, Indiana, unanimously rejected a Prologis data center; nearly 90% of acreage in Kosciusko County is being actively farmed, according to the Heatmap Pro database. Linn County, Iowa, in February enacted a rule severely restricting data center development in unincorporated areas; almost three-fourths of the land is used by the ag sector. A potential Amazon facility is causing heartburn in Clinton County, Ohio; nearly all land in the county is used for farming and utility-scale solar development has a recent history of conflict with landowners.
To be candid, I’m struck by the similarity in the backlash over siting data centers on farmland – a resemblance so close that some counties are starting to restrict renewable energy and data center development on farmland at the same time. This week, Eau Claire County, Wisconsin created a new “farmland preservation plan” discouraging utility-scale solar energy and data centers on any potential farmland. (More than 40% of land in this county is currently being used for farmland, according to Heatmap Pro.)
Jones at Food and Water Watch said his organization taking on the “protect farmland” mantle had nothing to do with the success this argument has had against renewable energy. “That thought never entered my head,” he told me, adding that if communities respond to the data center backlash by taking steps that short-circuit solar and wind too, that’s “a coincidence.”
I kept pressing. What if the pivot to farmland protection leads to more communities restricting renewable energy along with the data centers? “If you’re looking for a reason to oppose solar and wind, you can come up with that without having to attach data centers to it,” Jones said. “We’ve seen rural communities oppose solar and wind before data centers blew up across the country. It’s nothing new.”
And more of the week’s top news around project fights.
1. Virginia Beach, Virginia – The right-wing interest group lawsuit against Dominion Energy’s Coastal Virginia offshore wind is now dead, concluding one of the wackier tales of the Trump 2.0 energy era.
2. Box Elder County, Utah – Call it the Box Elder County massacre.
3. Davidson County, Tennessee – We have the latest updates in the Nashville Zoo data center drama and they’re a doozy and a half.
4. Clark County, Ohio – Yet another utility-scale solar farm is in the Ohio state permitting graveyard.