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Fuel is out. Supply chains are in.
It was not long ago that the combination of “hydrogen” and “automakers” would bring to mind fuel cells, a technology that has already fallen out of favor as buyers flock to electric cars. In its wake, though, green hydrogen is catching the eye of automakers for another reason: It could allow them to decarbonize one of their trickiest supply chains.
In the last two years, major car companies have committed to integrating green or recycled steel, made with hydrogen, into their vehicles. At the forefront of this effort is Volvo, which aims to be the first automaker to use fossil-free steel in its cars. If successful — and, given where the company is in the process, that’s a big if — the Swedish automaker’s efforts could provide a template for how to decarbonize other challenging parts of industrial supply chains.
Steelmaking is responsible for roughly 8% of global energy demand and 2.6 gigatonnes of carbon dioxide emissions per year, a total higher than all of the European Union’s emissions in 2021. Steelmakers use fossil fuels — and especially highly polluting coal — to process iron ore and produce the alloy. At present, there aren’t any surefire paths to reduce these emissions, given how crucial a role steel plays in modern manufacturing.
But green steel has real promise. Hydrogen made using renewable energy can be used to replace coal in steelmaking with near-zero greenhouse gas emissions. The market for green steel is still small, though, in part because there is simply not a lot on offer. In 2019, just 8% of the world’s steel mills had even begun committing to zero-carbon technology, according to the green energy non-profit RMI.
This is largely because the supply of green hydrogen — the ingredient that gives green steel its name and a hot commodity among investors — is itself constrained. Creating the fuel is incredibly energy intensive. To produce 550 million metric tons of green hydrogen annually, the world would need 18 times more solar capacity than it has installed today, according to the Hydrogen Council.
As of 2020, the world demanded 90 million metric tons of hydrogen for refining and industrial applications, which were produced almost entirely by fossil fuels. Of that, just 30,000 metric tons were produced using renewable energy.
For Volvo, the first step of the enormous undertaking of steel decarbonization was to assess the carbon footprint of a car, specifically its first electric vehicle. It found its XC40 Recharge would emit 27 metric tons of carbon dioxide over its lifetime even if it were charged entirely using renewable energy. Of that total, 18% of the materials-related emissions came from the steel used to build the car.
According to Jonas Otterheim, who was until recently the head of climate action for the Swedish automaker (though he is temporarily on leave), this realization drove home that finding suppliers of low- or no-emissions steel would be “critical” to reach the company’s goal of supply chain-wide carbon neutrality by 2040.
Volvo turned to its steel suppliers, namely SSAB, the manufacturer that has long provided the company’s conventional steel. In June 2021, the two partnered to explore developing fossil-free steel for use in its cars as well.
It may seem that substituting green steel for conventional is straightforward, especially given that, per SSAB, “the only difference in the process is that the energy used will be exclusively fossil-free electricity and other fossil-free fuels.” However, with an operation as complicated as auto manufacturing, any material change requires exhaustive testing.
And that’s where Volvo is today. The automaker aims to integrate green steel into its vehicles in 2026, which is when SSAB intends to have its fossil-free plant up and running. In the meantime, Volvo is evaluating “part-by-part” which components of its manufacturing process can safely be replaced with green steel.
“This is [a] very big job over a number of years, before the material can be put into any car,” said Otterheim. The two companies are evaluating whether the switch to green steel will require retooling its plants, which “are built specifically for every car and every material quality we have,” he added.
Otterheim said the deal initially was just exploratory in nature: an opportunity for both companies to explore whether it’s possible to make fossil-free versions of all the different grades of steel that are necessary to build a car, and potentially use it in a concept car.
However, his colleague Stina Klingvall, who is Volvo’s acting head of climate action in Otterheim’s absence, said that things have developed to the point where Volvo is actively starting to prepare to produce components with the new steel.
One promising development has come already from within the Volvo ecosystem. In August 2021, SSAB shipped a batch of green steel made at a pilot plant with renewable electricity and hydrogen to Volvo’s truck-making arm (separate from Volvo Cars), which was then integrated the steel into a dump truck prototype. (SSAB produced this steel under its Hybrit initiative, a collaboration with mining company LKAB and power company Vattenfall.)
One big outstanding question is how much automakers and other green steel buyers will have to pay to use the more sustainable metal.
RMI’s analysis found that hydrogen-based steel production can result in a 20% cost premium, but also that the premium disappears when electricity prices are in the range of $15-$20 per megawatt-hour or lower. This remains out of reach across most of the U.S., though a Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory study found that the country is on track for solar costing $22 per MWh hour on average by 2035 (down from $34 per MWh in 2020).
Meanwhile, Otterheim said that he hopes that Volvo’s work will “help drive down costs'' to be more in line with the status quo for steel, and that it will push more automakers to make commitments of their own. This represents the most crucial knock-on effect of a single company’s dipping a toe into greener materials: peer pressure.
“Due to the scarcity of these materials over the short-term period, other premium car makers are also starting to act to secure volumes for their supply,” Otterheim said. “The race for such materials is naturally good, creating an even stronger signal to other steel suppliers to follow.”
Volvo may have made the first green steel purchase commitment, but several automaker competitors have followed suit, including BMW and General Motors. While the pool of customers for steel is a big one (and includes the renewables industry), transportation is a particularly big fish in that pool, responsible for 12% of global steel consumption, per the World Steel Association.
When it comes to urging heavy industry to decarbonize, there is strength in numbers. Materials like steel, cement, and chemicals are integral parts of countless other supply chains, which means it’s hard for a single customer to have much sway. As a consequence, heavy industrial companies lack the incentive to innovate, said former New York Times journalist Justin Gillis, who recently published a book on how to push for climate action. There are few market signals “that clean products are going to be favored,” he said.
But some companies are trying to change that dynamic. The First Movers Coalition was formed last year explicitly to create markets for nascent sectors like green steel and carbon dioxide removal. With a market cap of $8.5 trillion between the more than 50 companies involved, their collective pledges to procure climate-friendly products despite the higher price tag offers market certainty. When Ford joined the coalition in May, the company pledged that at least 10% of its steel and aluminum would have near-zero carbon emissions by 2030.
Ultimately, companies that have committed to cleaning up their supply chains have a choice of how to decide to define that supply chain, and how much pressure to put on their suppliers with hard-to-abate emissions.
“How many steps back in the supply chain do you go? The further back you go, the less responsibility any one consumer-facing company can have,” Gillis said. “I do think these companies can play a role by sending market pressure, but they need to be willing to pay a price premium for cleaner supplies or materials.”
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Editor's note: This article was updated at 12:23 pm ET to clarify part of the steelmaking process.
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And for his energy czar, Doug Burgum.
When Trump enters the Oval Office again in January, there are some climate change-related programs he could roll back or revise immediately, some that could take years to dismantle, and some that may well be beyond his reach. And then there’s carbon capture and storage.
For all the new regulations and funding the Biden administration issued to reduce emissions and advance the clean energy economy over the past four years, it did little to update the regulatory environment for carbon capture and storage. The Treasury Department never clarified how the changes to the 45Q tax credit for carbon capture under the Inflation Reduction Act affect eligibility. The Department of Transportation has not published its proposal for new safety rules for pipelines that transport carbon dioxide. And the Environmental Protection Agency has yet to determine whether it will give Texas permission to regulate its own carbon dioxide storage wells, a scenario that some of the state’s own representatives advise against.
That means, as the BloombergNEF policy associate Derrick Flakoll put it in an analysis published prior to the election, “the next administration and Congress will encounter a blank canvas of carbon capture infrastructure rules they can shape freely.”
Carbon capture is unique among climate technologies because it is, in most cases, a pure cost with no monetizable benefit. That means the policy environment — that great big blank canvas — is essential to determining which projects actually get built and whether the ones that do are actually useful for fighting climate change.
The next administration may or may not decide to take an interest in carbon capture, of course, but there’s reason to expect it will. Doug Burgum, Trump’s pick for the Department of the Interior who will also head up a new National Energy Council, has been a vocal supporter of carbon capture projects in his home state of North Dakota. Although Trump’s team will be looking for subsidies to cut in order to offset the tax breaks he has promised, his deep-pocketed supporters in the oil and gas industry who have made major investments in carbon capture based, in part, on the 45Q tax credit, will not want to see it on the chopping block. And carbon capture typically enjoys bipartisan support in Congress.
Congress first created the carbon capture tax credit in 2008, under the auspices of cleaning up the image of coal plants. Lawmakers updated the credit in 2018, and then again in 2022 with the Inflation Reduction Act, each iteration increasing the credit amount and expanding the types of projects that are eligible. Companies can now get up to $85 for every ton of CO2 captured from an industrial plant and sequestered underground, and $180 for every ton captured directly from the air. Combined with grants and loans in the 2021 Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, the changes have driven a surge in carbon capture and storage projects in the United States. More than 150 projects have been announced since the start of 2022, according to a database maintained by the International Energy Agency, compared to fewer than 100 over the four years prior.
Many of these projects are notably different from what has been proposed and tried in the past. Historically in the U.S., carbon capture has been used on coal-fired power plants, ethanol refineries, and at natural gas processing facilities, and almost all of the captured gas has been pumped into aging oil fields to help push more fuel out of the ground. But the new policy environment spurred at least some proposals in industries with few other options to decarbonize, including cement, hydrogen, and steel production. It also catalyzed projects that suck carbon directly from the air, versus capturing emissions at the source. Most developers now say they plan to sequester captured carbon underground rather than use it to drill for oil.
Only a handful of projects are actually under construction, however, and the prospects for others reaching that point are far from guaranteed. Inflation has eroded the value of the 45Q tax credit, Madelyn Morrison, the government affairs director for the Carbon Capture Coalition, told me. “Coupled with that, project deployment costs have really skyrocketed over the past several years. Some folks have said that equipment costs have gone up upwards of 50%,” she said.
Others aren’t sure whether they’ll even qualify, Flakoll told me. “There is a sort of shadow struggle going on over how permissive the credit is going to be in practice,” he said. For example, the IRA says that power plants have to capture 75% of their baseline emissions to be eligible, but it doesn’t specify how to calculate those baseline emissions. The Treasury solicited input on these questions and others shortly after the IRA passed. Comments raised concerns about how projects that share pipeline infrastructure should track and report their carbon sequestration claims. Environmental groups sought updates to the reporting and verification requirements to prevent taxpayer money from funding false or inflated claims. A 2020 investigation by the inspector general for tax administration found that during the first decade of the program, nearly $900 billion in tax credits were claimed for projects that did not comply with EPA reporting requirements. But the Treasury never followed up its request for comment with a proposed rule.
Permitting for carbon sequestration sites has also lagged. The Environmental Protection Agency has issued final permits for just one carbon sequestration project over the past four years, with a total of two wells. Fifty-five applications are currently under review.
Carbon dioxide pipeline projects have also faced opposition from local governments and landowners. In California, where lawmakers have generally supported the use of carbon capture for achieving state climate goals, and where more than a dozen projects have been announced, the legislature placed a moratorium on CO2 pipeline development until the federal government updates its safety regulations.
The incoming Congress and presidential administration could clear away some of these hurdles. Congress is already expected to get rid of or rewrite many of the IRA’s tax credit programs when it opens the tax code to address other provisions that expire next year. The Carbon Capture Coalition and other proponents are advocating for another increase to the value of the 45Q tax credit to adjust it for inflation. Trump’s Treasury department will have free rein to issue rules that make the credit as cheap and easy as possible to claim. The EPA, under new leadership, could also speed up carbon storage permitting or, perhaps more likely, grant primacy over permitting to the states.
But other Trump administration priorities could end up hurting carbon capture development. The projects with the surest path forward are the ones with the lowest cost of capture and multiple pathways for revenue generation, Rohan Dighe, a research analyst at Wood Mackenzie told me. For example, ethanol plants emit a relatively pure stream of CO2 that’s easy to capture, and doing so enables producers to access low-carbon fuel markets in California and Washington. Carbon capture at a steel plant or power plant is much more difficult, by contrast, as the flue gas contains a mix of pollutants.
On those facilities, the 45Q tax credit is too low to justify the cost, Dighe said, and other sources of revenue such as price premiums for green products are uncertain. “The Trump administration's been pretty clear in terms of wanting to deregulate, broadly speaking,” Dighe said, pointing to plans to axe the EPA’s power plant rules and the Securities and Exchange Commission’s climate disclosure requirements. “So those sorts of drivers for some of these projects moving forward are going to be removed.”
That means projects will depend more on voluntary corporate sustainability initiatives to justify investment. Does Amazon want to build a data center in West Texas? Is it willing to pay a premium for clean electricity from a natural gas plant that captures and stores its carbon?
But the regulatory environment still matters. Flakoll will be watching to see whether lax monitoring and reporting rules for carbon capture, if enacted, will hurt trust and acceptance of carbon capture projects to the point that companies find it difficult to find buyers for their products or insurance companies to underwrite them.
“There will be a more of a policy push for [CCS] to enter the market,” Flakoll said. “But it takes two to tango, and there's a question of how much the private sector will respond to that.”
What he wants them to do is one thing. What they’ll actually do is far less certain.
Donald Trump believes that tariffs have almost magical power to bring prosperity; as he said last month, “To me, the world’s most beautiful word in the dictionary is tariffs. It’s my favorite word.” In case anyone doubted his sincerity, before Thanksgiving he announced his intention to impose 25% tariffs on everything coming from Canada and Mexico, and an additional 10% tariff on all Chinese goods.
This is just the beginning. If the trade war he launched in his first term was haphazard and accomplished very little except costing Americans money, in his second term he plans to go much further. And the effects of these on clean energy and climate change will be anything but straightforward.
The theory behind tariffs is that by raising the price of an imported good, they give a stronger footing in the market; eventually, the domestic producer may no longer need the tariff to be competitive. Imposing a tariff means we’ve decided that a particular industry is important enough that it needs this kind of support — or as some might call it, protection — even if it means higher prices for a while.
The problem with across-the-board tariffs of the kind Trump proposes is that they create higher prices even for goods that are not being produced domestically and probably never will be. If tariffs raise the price of a six-pack of tube socks at Target from $9.99 to $14.99, it won’t mean we’ll start making tube socks in America again. It just means you’ll pay more. The same is often true for domestic industries that use foreign parts in their manufacturing: If no one is producing those parts domestically, their costs will unavoidably rise.
The U.S. imported over $3 trillion worth of goods in 2023, and $426 billion from China alone, so Trump’s proposed tariffs would represent hundreds of billions of dollars of increased costs. That’s before we account for the inevitable retaliatory tariffs, which is what we saw in Trump’s first term: He imposed tariffs on China, which responded by choking off its imports of American agricultural goods. In the end, the revenue collected from Trump’s tariffs went almost entirely to bailing out farmers whose export income disappeared.
The past almost-four years under Joe Biden have seen a series of back-and-forth moves in which new tariffs were announced, other tariffs were increased, exemptions were removed and reinstated. For instance, this May Biden increased the tariff on Chinese electric vehicles to over 100% while adding tariffs on certain EV batteries. But some of the provisions didn’t take effect right away, and only certain products were affected, so the net economic impact was minimal. And there’s been nothing like an across-the-board tariff.
It’s reasonable to criticize Biden’s tariff policies related to climate. But his administration was trying to navigate a dilemma, serving two goals at once: reducing emissions and promoting the development of domestic clean energy technology. Those goals are not always in alignment, at least in the short run, which we can see in the conflict within the solar industry. Companies that sell and install solar equipment benefit from cheap Chinese imports and therefore oppose tariffs, while domestic manufacturers want the tariffs to continue so they can be more competitive. The administration has attempted to accommodate both interests with a combination of subsidies to manufacturers and tariffs on certain kinds of imports — with exemptions peppered here and there. It’s been a difficult balancing act.
Then there are electric vehicles. The world’s largest EV manufacturer is Chinese company BYD, but if you haven’t seen any of their cars on the road, it’s because existing tariffs make it virtually impossible to import Chinese EVs to the United States. That will continue to be the case under Trump, and it would have been the case if Kamala Harris had been elected.
On one hand, it’s important for America to have the strongest possible green industries to insulate us from future supply shocks and create as many jobs-of-the-future as possible. On the other hand, that isn’t necessarily the fastest route to emissions reductions. In a world where we’ve eliminated all tariffs on EVs, the U.S. market would be flooded with inexpensive, high-quality Chinese EVs. That would dramatically accelerate adoption, which would be good for the climate.
But that would also deal a crushing blow to the American car industry, which is why neither party will allow it. What may happen, though, is that Chinese car companies may build factories in Mexico, or even here in the U.S., just as many European and Japanese companies have, so that their cars wouldn’t be subject to tariffs. That will take time.
Of course, whatever happens will depend on Trump following through with his tariff promise. We’ve seen before how he declares victory even when he only does part of what he promised, which could happen here. Once he begins implementing his tariffs, his administration will be immediately besieged by a thousand industries demanding exemptions, carve-outs, and delays in the tariffs that affect them. Many will have powerful advocates — members of Congress, big donors, and large groups of constituents — behind them. It’s easy to imagine how “across-the-board” tariffs could, in practice, turn into Swiss cheese.
There’s no way to know yet which parts of the energy transition will be in the cheese, and which parts will be in the holes. The manufacturers can say that helping them will stick it to China; the installers may not get as friendly an audience with Trump and his team. And the EV tariffs certainly aren’t going anywhere.
There’s a great deal of uncertainty, but one thing is clear: This is a fight that will continue for the entirety of Trump’s term, and beyond.
Give the people what they want — big, family-friendly EVs.
The star of this year’s Los Angeles Auto Show was the Hyundai Ioniq 9, a rounded-off colossus of an EV that puts Hyundai’s signature EV styling on a three-row SUV cavernous enough to carry seven.
I was reminded of two years ago, when Hyundai stole the L.A. show with a different EV: The reveal of Ioniq 6, its “streamliner” aerodynamic sedan that looked like nothing else on the market. By comparison, Ioniq 9 is a little more banal. It’s a crucial vehicle that will occupy the large end of Hyundai's excellent and growing lineup of electric cars, and one that may sell in impressive numbers to large families that want to go electric. Even with all the sleek touches, though, it’s not quite interesting. But it is big, and at this moment in electric vehicles, big is what’s in.
The L.A. show is one the major events on the yearly circuit of car shows, where the car companies traditionally reveal new models for the media and show off their whole lineups of vehicles for the public. Given that California is the EV capital of America, carmakers like to talk up their electric models here.
Hyundai’s brand partner, Kia, debuted a GT performance version of its EV9, adding more horsepower and flashy racing touches to a giant family SUV. Jeep reminded everyone of its upcoming forays into full-size and premium electric SUVs in the form of the Recon and the Wagoneer S. VW trumpeted the ID.Buzz, the long-promised electrified take on the classic VW Microbus that has finally gone on sale in America. The VW is the quirkiest of the lot, but it’s a design we’ve known about since 2017, when the concept version was revealed.
Boring isn’t the worst thing in the world. It can be a sign of a maturing industry. At auto shows of old, long before this current EV revolution, car companies would bring exotic, sci-fi concept cars to dial up the intrigue compared to the bread-and-butter, conservatively styled vehicles that actually made them gobs of money. During the early EV years, electrics were the shiny thing to show off at the car show. Now, something of the old dynamic has come to the electric sector.
Acura and Chrysler brought wild concepts to Los Angeles that were meant to signify the direction of their EVs to come. But most of the EVs in production looked far more familiar. Beyond the new hulking models from Hyundai and Kia, much of what’s on offer includes long-standing models, but in EV (Chevy Equinox and Blazer) or plug-in hybrid (Jeep Grand Cherokee and Wrangler) configurations. One of the most “interesting” EVs on the show floor was the Cybertruck, which sat quietly in a barely-staffed display of Tesla vehicles. (Elon Musk reveals his projects at separate Tesla events, a strategy more carmakers have begun to steal as a way to avoid sharing the spotlight at a car show.)
The other reason boring isn’t bad: It’s what the people want. The majority of drivers don’t buy an exotic, fun vehicle. They buy a handsome, spacious car they can afford. That last part, of course, is where the problem kicks in.
We don’t yet know the price of the Ioniq 9, but it’s likely to be in the neighborhood of Kia’s three-row electric, the EV9, which starts in the mid-$50,000s and can rise steeply from there. Stellantis’ forthcoming push into the EV market will start with not only pricey premium Jeep SUVs, but also some fun, though relatively expensive, vehicles like the heralded Ramcharger extended-range EV truck and the Dodge Charger Daytona, an attempt to apply machismo-oozing, alpha-male muscle-car marketing to an electric vehicle.
You can see the rationale. It costs a lot to build a battery big enough to power a big EV, so they’re going to be priced higher. Helpfully for the car brands, Americans have proven they will pay a premium for size and power. That’s not to say we’re entering an era of nothing but bloated EV battleships. Models such as the overpowered electric Dodge Charger and Kia EV9 GT will reveal the appetite for performance EVs. Smaller models like the revived Chevy Bolt and Kia’s EV3, already on sale overseas, are coming to America, tax credit or not.
The question for the legacy car companies is where to go from here. It takes years to bring a vehicle from idea to production, so the models on offer today were conceived in a time when big federal support for EVs was in place to buoy the industry through its transition. Now, though, the automakers have some clear uncertainty about what to say.
Chevy, having revealed new electrics like the Equinox EV elsewhere, did not hold a media conference at the L.A. show. Ford, which is having a hellacious time losing money on its EVs, used its time to talk up combustion vehicles including a new version of the palatial Expedition, one of the oversized gas-guzzlers that defined the first SUV craze of the 1990s.
If it’s true that the death of federal subsidies will send EV sales into a slump, we may see messaging from Detroit and elsewhere that feels decidedly retro, with very profitable combustion front-and-center and the all-electric future suddenly less of a talking point. Whatever happens at the federal level, EVs aren’t going away. But as they become a core part of the car business, they are going to get less exciting.