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Here’s where Biden’s climate law is having the biggest impact on the automotive industry — and where it’s falling short.

Around this time last summer, it seemed more apparent than ever that 2023 would be the year the gasoline-free automotive future was set to begin. After a decade that included electric vehicle fits and starts, Volkswagen’s diesel cheating scandal, the rise of Tesla, the EV boom in China, and a whole new generation of car buyers more aware of their personal impact on the climate than ever, it felt like the dawn of an EV-focused tomorrow was just around the corner. All it needed was a spark.
The Inflation Reduction Act, an admittedly poorly named piece of legislation packed with climate and green energy provisions, was meant to be exactly that. On the automotive front, the Biden administration’s signature legislation package included massive subsidies for EV battery plants, strict rules around where cars are produced and batteries are sourced, and a reset on America’s outdated EV tax incentive scheme for car buyers. It seemed grand on a scale not seen since the Johnson years: thousands of jobs, some $100 billion in funding, and a chance for America to kneecap China in the EV arms race.
So a year after the IRA’s passage, is all this investment working? The definitive answer is this: mostly, kinda.
While it’s highly questionable that the IRA has successfully Reduced Inflation, the effect of the legislation on America’s automotive manufacturing landscape has already been palpable. A recent report from the Environmental Defense Fund shows EV industry investments in the U.S. rising in 2021 around the passage of the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, before taking off in a near-vertical fashion after the IRA was passed.
I decided to grade the IRA’s impact on America’s automotive sector — not just the Big Three U.S. automakers, but all companies who make cars here and support them — in a few key areas.
What I found is that a year in, the IRA feels like it could permanently reset our car industry. But in some key areas, its effects aren’t even close to being seen, and on other fronts, the IRA has caused a number of unintended consequences that will play out for years to come.
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This is arguably the biggest shift we’ve seen thanks to the IRA, and it’s certainly working.
Making batteries for tomorrow’s EVs won’t be as simple as turning car engine plants into battery plants; the supply chain, manufacturing process, and labor needs are entirely different. And so new facilities are springing up left and right to meet this moment.
The Electrification Coalition, a nonprofit policy organization that advocates for EV adoption, identified more than a dozen battery manufacturing and recycling factories that have been announced or are under construction thanks to IRA incentives. These projects are, on average, $3 billion or more, and they’ll provide batteries for future cars from General Motors, Rivian, Hyundai, Tesla, Volkswagen’s new electric Scout brand, and more.
Would this new battery ecosystem have happened without the IRA? Maybe. But certainly not this quickly or at this scale. The automakers may be moving in the direction of electrification, but it’s doing so begrudgingly and these incentives — coupled with state and local ones as well — gave them a reason to move quicker than “the market” would’ve done.
That’s good news for batteries. What about the cars themselves? Since the IRA heavily incentivizes batteries and EVs to be made locally — which I’ll touch on in a moment — it’s kicking off a surge in U.S. car manufacturing the likes of which haven’t been seen in decades.
While battery factories themselves are getting the lion’s share of the attention and money, automakers are adding new factories, expanding existing ones, and retooling lines to scale up their EV outputs.
Granted, many automakers are still investing heavily into (or hedging their bets on) their profitable gasoline models, especially big trucks and SUVs. But EV production is ramping up in America and that scale should eventually drive prices down. Simply put, if a car company — GM, Ford, Nissan, BMW, Hyundai, all of them — builds in the U.S., they’re about to start making EVs here too.
There’s an undercurrent that can be found across all of the Biden administration’s climate and tech investments: cutting off a rising China in countless areas. It’s why only EVs with “final assembly” in North America, that don’t source batteries or components from China, qualify for tax incentives. China has made huge investments into not only its own EV industry but controlling the supply chain around it, and America doesn’t want to cede that to a potentially hostile, non-allied peer state that has a horrific record on human rights and civic freedoms.
Is it working? So far, yes. However, it’s not going to happen overnight. Just as the Center for Strategic and International Studies called it last year, “in the short term it will be difficult to avoid Chinese supply chains.” That’s true of chips, minerals, and everything else.
Moreover, don’t expect automakers to give up the potential of exporting Chinese-made cars. Tesla already sells China-made EVs in Canada, and Volvo has found a George Washington-era loophole to sell the affordable EX30 electric crossover in America without steep tariff penalties. IRA rules may keep Chinese batteries out of our country and stiff tariffs hamper automakers like BYD for now, but this side of things is far from settled.
Now, it’s time for our lesson in unintended consequences. The new $7,500 EV tax credits have strict requirements; essentially, the cars and their batteries have to be built in North America. Given the long-term nature of these investments, not every automaker with an EV lineup can meet those rules for now, leaving a lot of cars out of the credit. (South Korea’s Hyundai Motor Group, in particular, got pretty burned here, leaving its excellent EVs on the expensive side.)
Long-term, these cars and their batteries will be built locally and more cars will qualify for the tax credit. For now, the high cost of EVs is proving to be a major deterrent to adoption. Buyers, squeezed by interest rates and the rising cost of everything, are having trouble justifying the switch. So far the biggest winner is Tesla, which has always been building EVs and batteries in America.
I think a better approach would’ve been to allow all EVs to qualify for the full tax credit until, say, 2026 or so; after that, and perhaps after a gradual phase-in, automakers would have to build local or charge higher prices. That would’ve given them time to ramp up these factories and pushed EV adoption harder at the same time. At the start of the year, before a ton of EVs and hybrids got kicked out of the program, that’s exactly the trend we saw.
That’s what I would’ve done. But, to date, Joe Biden has not put me in charge of such things.
This one is due to be an objective win for the IRA. That Environmental Defense Fund report counts 84,800 jobs that have been announced for the EV industry in America since the IRA’s passage.
According to their data, nearly all of those are located in Southern states. Georgia’s the biggest winner here, believe it or not. And Tennessee, South and North Carolina, and Kentucky are all seeing, or will soon see, big booms in EV-related job growth. The same is true for Michigan, the home of America’s auto industry, as well as lithium-rich Nevada, where Tesla has had a foothold for years.
Again, there’s another universe where the IRA didn’t pass and all of those jobs went to China instead as America’s automakers put their patriotism on the back burner to chase lower labor costs and easy profits. The U.S. is getting a major employment boost instead.
But there’s a difference between “jobs” and “good jobs.” Take a newly militant United Auto Workers union, currently locked into unusually bitter contract negotiations with the Big Three American automakers. One thing they’re mad about: those battery factories going up everywhere, especially the joint-venture ones, don’t automatically lead to union jobs. (One GM-LG battery plant in Ohio voted to unionize with the UAW last year but doesn’t have a contract yet.)
The result is that those battery plant workers could make considerably less money than America’s unionized auto workers, as my colleague Emily Pontecorvo reported in June. Adding insult to injury, EVs generally need fewer parts and labor than conventional cars to assemble; indeed, those battery plant jobs could one day form the bulk of America’s automotive labor force.
The UAW did support the IRA’s passage last year. But that also happened before the union’s much tougher current leadership came in; I’m not convinced it would have gone the same way today. In general, the law doesn’t do a ton for labor, and that’s why the reliably Democratic UAW has held off on endorsing Biden.
So far, the Biden administration doesn’t have a great answer for this, either. The president himself is doing the “Can’t we all just get along?” dance, but that may be the best he can do as he navigates climate, geopolitical, industry, and labor needs at the same time. And the move to EVs is expected to define the automotive labor world — here and globally — for the next few decades.
As Ryan Cooper astutely noted this week, the IRA’s biggest problem is arguably one of awareness. Very few people seem to know about these investments or what’s coming from them. That lack of awareness could be the IRA’s biggest threat.
Maybe that’s a problem more for Biden than the EV industry, America’s supply chain, or the climate, but when nobody knows about the president’s biggest achievement — especially in all those red states where the jobs are going — you have to wonder what a change at the White House next year could mean for all of this momentum. It’s not like those battery plants under construction will just disappear, but I wouldn’t put it past a less climate-focused White House (or Congress) to find a way to thwart all this progress.
There’s also the rising right-wing backlash to EVs in general, predicated more on the messaging power of the fossil fuel industry and our own endlessly stupid culture wars. In short, though these investments do take time, very few people seem to know about them or see the benefits that will come from them.
Auto industries are always heavily subsidized and regulated by the countries they come from. It was true of Japan after World War II, it’s been true of China for the past 20 years, and it’s certainly been true in various ways in America for a century. The IRA is just the biggest such move the U.S. has seen to modernize, compete and innovate in a world where gas cars could eventually be discarded as obsolete technology.
The groundwork has been laid. Now we’ll find out if it has staying power.
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What happens when one of energy’s oldest bottlenecks meets its newest demand driver?
Often the biggest impediment to building renewable energy projects or data center infrastructure isn’t getting government approvals, it’s overcoming local opposition. When it comes to the transmission that connects energy to the grid, however, companies and politicians of all stripes are used to being most concerned about those at the top – the politicians and regulators at every level who can’t seem to get their acts together.
What will happen when the fiery fights on each end of the wire meet the broken, unplanned spaghetti monster of grid development our country struggles with today? Nothing great.
The transmission fights of the data center boom have only just begun. Utilities will have to spend lots of money on getting energy from Point A to Point B – at least $500 billion over the next five years, to be precise. That’s according to a survey of earnings information published by think tank Power Lines on Tuesday, which found roughly half of all utility infrastructure spending will go toward the grid.
But big wires aren’t very popular. When Heatmap polled various types of energy projects last September, we found that self-identified Democrats and Republicans were mostly neutral on large-scale power lines. Independent voters, though? Transmission was their second least preferred technology, ranking below only coal power.
Making matters far more complex, grid planning is spread out across decision-makers. At the regional level, governance is split into 10 areas overseen by regional transmission organizations, known as RTOs, or independent system operators, known as ISOs. RTOs and ISOs plan transmission projects, often proposing infrastructure to keep the grid resilient and functional. These bodies are also tasked with planning the future of their own grids, or at least they are supposed to – many observers have decried RTOs and ISOs as outmoded and slow to respond. Utilities and electricity co-ops also do this planning at various scales. And each of these bodies must navigate federal regulators and permitting processes, utility commissions for each state they touch, on top of the usual raft of local authorities.
The mid-Atlantic region is overseen by PJM Interconnection, a body now under pressure from state governors in the territory to ensure the data center boom doesn’t unnecessarily drive up costs for consumers. The irony, though, is that these governors are going to be under incredible pressure to have their states act against individual transmission projects in ways that will eventually undercut affordability.
Virginia, for instance – known now as Data Center Alley – is flanked by states that are politically diverse. West Virginia is now a Republican stronghold, but was long a Democratic bastion. Maryland had a Republican governor only a few years ago. Virginia and Pennsylvania regularly change party control. These dynamics are among the many drivers behind the opposition against the Piedmont Reliability Project, which would run from a nuclear plant in Pennsylvania to northern Virginia, cutting across spans of Maryland farmland ripe for land use conflict. The timeline for this project is currently unclear due to administrative delays.
Another major fight is brewing with NextEra’s Mid-Atlantic Resiliency Link, or MARL project. Spanning four states – and therefore four utility commissions – the MARL was approved by PJM Interconnection to meet rising electricity demand across West Virginia, Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania. It still requires approval from each state utility commission, however. Potentially affected residents in West Virginia are hopping mad about the project, and state Democratic lawmakers are urging the utility commission to reject it.
In West Virginia, as well as Virginia and Maryland, NextEra has applied for a certificate of public convenience and necessity to build the MARL project, a permit that opponents have claimed would grant it the authority to exercise eminent domain. (NextEra has said it will do what it can to work well with landowners. The company did not respond to a request for comment.)
“The biggest problem facing transmission is that there’s so many problems facing transmission,” said Liza Reed, director of climate and energy at the Niskanen Center, a policy think tank. “You have multiple layers of approval you have to go through for a line that is going to provide broader benefits in reliability and resilience across the system.”
Hyperlocal fracases certainly do matter. Reed explained to me that “often folks who are approving the line at the state or local level are looking at the benefits they’re receiving – and that’s one of the barriers transmission can have.” That is, when one state utility commission looks at a power line project, they’re essentially forced to evaluate the costs and benefits from just a portion of it.
She pointed to the example of a Transource line proposed by PJM almost 10 years ago to send excess capacity from Pennsylvania to Maryland. It wasn’t delayed by protests over the line itself – the Pennsylvania Public Utilities Commission opposed the project because it thought the result would be net higher electricity bills for folks in the Keystone State. That’s despite whatever benefits would come from selling the electricity to Maryland and consumer benefits for their southern neighbors. The lesson: Whoever feels they’re getting the raw end of the line will likely try to stop it, and there’s little to nothing anyone else can do to stop them.
These hyperlocal fears about projects with broader regional benefits can be easy targets for conservation-focused environmental advocates. Not only could they take your land, the argument goes, they’re also branching out to states with dirtier forms of energy that could pollute your air.
“We do need more energy infrastructure to move renewable energy,” said Julie Bolthouse, director of land use for the Virginia conservation group Piedmont Environmental Council, after I asked her why she’s opposing lots of the transmission in Virginia. “This is pulling away from that investment. This is eating up all of our utility funding. All of our money is going to these massive transmission lines to give this incredible amount of power to data centers in Virginia when it could be used to invest in solar, to invest in transmission for renewables we can use. Instead it’s delivering gas and coal from West Virginia and the Ohio River Valley.”
Daniel Palken of Arnold Ventures, who previously worked on major pieces of transmission reform legislation in the U.S. Senate, said when asked if local opposition was a bigger problem than macro permitting issues: “I do not think local opposition is the main thing holding up transmission.”
But then he texted me to clarify. “What’s unique about transmission is that in order for local opposition to even matter, there has to be a functional planning process that gets transmission lines to the starting line. And right now, only about half the country has functional regional planning, and none of the country has functional interregional planning.”
It’s challenging to fathom a solution to such a fragmented, nauseating puzzle. One solution could be in Congress, where climate hawks and transmission reform champions want to empower the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission to have primacy over transmission line approvals, as it has over gas pipelines. This would at the very least contain any conflicts over transmission lines to one deciding body.
“It’s an old saw: Depending on the issue, I’ll tell you that I’m supportive of states’ rights,” Representative Sean Casten told me last December. “[I]t makes no sense that if you want to build a gas pipeline across multiple states in the U.S., you go to FERC and they are the sole permitting authority and they decide whether or not you get a permit. If you go to the same corridor and build an electric transmission that has less to worry about because there’s no chance of leaks, you have a different permitting body every time you cross a state line.”
Another solution could come from the tech sector thinking fast on its feet. Google for example is investing in “advanced” transmission projects like reconductoring, which the company says will allow it to increase the capacity of existing power lines. Microsoft is also experimenting with smaller superconductor lines they claim deliver the same amount of power than traditional wires.
But this space is evolving and in its infancy. “Getting into the business of transmission development is very complicated and takes a lot of time. That’s why we’ve seen data centers trying a lot of different tactics,” Reed said. “I think there’s a lot of interest, but turning that into specific projects and solutions is still to come. I think it’s also made harder by how highly local these decisions are.”
Plus more of the week’s biggest development fights.
1. Franklin County, Maine – The fate of the first statewide data center ban hinges on whether a governor running for a Democratic Senate nomination is willing to veto over a single town’s project.
2. Jerome County, Idaho – The county home to the now-defunct Lava Ridge wind farm just restricted solar energy, too.
3. Shelby County, Tennessee - The NAACP has joined with environmentalists to sue one of Elon Musk’s data centers in Memphis, claiming it is illegally operating more than two dozen gas turbines.
4. Richland County, Ohio - This Ohio county is going to vote in a few weeks on a ballot initiative that would overturn its solar and wind ban. I am less optimistic about it than many other energy nerds I’ve seen chattering the past week.
5. Racine County, Wisconsin – I close this week’s Hotspots with a bonus request: Please listen to this data center noise.
A chat with Scott Blalock of Australian energy company Wärtsilä.
This week’s conversation is with Scott Blalock of Australian energy company Wärtsilä. I spoke with Blalock this week amidst my reporting on transmission after getting an email asking whether I understood that data centers don’t really know how much battery storage they need. Upon hearing this, I realized I didn’t even really understand how data centers – still a novel phenomenon to me – were incorporating large-scale battery storage at all. How does that work when AI power demand can be so dynamic?
Blalock helped me realize that in some ways, it’s more of the same, and in others, it’s a whole new ballgame.
The following chat was lightly edited for clarity.
So help me understand how the battery storage side of your business is changing due to the rise in data center development.
We’re really in the early stages for energy storage. The boom is really in generation – batteries aren’t generators. They store, they shift, they smooth power, but they don’t generate the power from fuel. In this boom right now, everyone is trying to find either grid connections or on-site power generation. Those are the longest lead time items ± they take a while — so we’re still in the early stages of those types of projects coming back and saying, we need to start procuring batteries. We need to start looking at the controls and how everything’s going to work together. That’s still a little bit in the future.
Are you seeing people deploy batteries responsibly, in an integrated way, or is it people unsure what they need?
There’s definitely uncertainty as to what they need. The requirements are still hard to nail down. A lot of the requirements come from the load curve of the AI workloads they’re doing, and that’s still a bit of a moving target. It’s the importance of knowing the whole system and planning that out in the modeling space.
The biggest space of all this is the load profile. Without a load profile, there’s uncertainty about what you’re going to need –
When you say load profile, what do you mean?
The AI workload. The GPUs. The volatility. In a synchronized training load, all of the GPUs are generally doing the same thing at the same time. They all reach a pause state at the same time, and you’re close to full power on the data center, and then they say, okay now we go idle. It has a little bit of a wait and then starts back up again.
It’s that square wave, very sharp changes in power – that’s the new challenge of an AI data center. That’s one of the new uses of BESS that’s being added compared to the traditional data center doing data storage. They’re more stable which use less power and are more stable.
The volatility is where some of the friction comes in, and that has to be handled by some technology.
So what you’re telling me is that data center developers do not know how much they need in terms of battery storage? Simply put, they don’t know how much power they need?
Traditionally, utility-scale batteries – the projects we’ve been doing – come from a PPA, an interconnect agreement. There’s something in place where they know exactly how many batteries they can install. They know how many megawatts they’re allowed to install. Then they come to us and they say, I need a 4-megawatt battery for two hours. Tell me how many batteries you’re going to give me.
In a data center, they don’t know that first number. They don’t know how many megawatts they need. So that’s the first question: well, how big of a battery do you need?
If you have a 1-gigawatt data center that means the load change is 60% of that – 600 megawatts is the step up-and-down. The starting point is 600 megawatts for two hours. That’s the starting point that’ll cover being able to take care of that volatility. The duration is a part of it, too. From there you get into more detailed studies.
When it comes to transmission, how much of a factor is it in how much storage a data center needs?
The first thing is whether it’s connected at all. The battery is a shock absorber for the whole system. If you are grid-connected, the BESS is still a stability asset – it’s still improving the power quality and stability at an interconnect. If you’re doing on-site generation, it becomes vital because you have only one system being controlled.
As far as when you talk about permitting and transmission, the details of that don’t really play that much into the BESS, but it’s tangentially related. The BESS is an important part of how you handle that situation. Whether you get to interconnect or not, it’s an extremely important asset in that mix.
With respect to the overall social license conversation, how does battery storage fit into the conversations around energy bills and strain on the grid?
Bias aside, I think it’s the most important piece.
If you look at the macro scale, it’s like transitioning to renewables where they’re intermittent; batteries turn intermittent generation from renewables into firm, dispatchable power. It’s still not going to be available all the time – you’re not going to turn a solar plant into a 24-hour baseload plant – but a battery allows you to shift the energy. It greatly alleviates the problem.
The other aspect is it’s a stability asset. The short version of that is you have big thermal plants – rotating metal masses that have momentum to them that stabilize everything on the grid. As you take those offline, the coal plants and the gas plants, the grid itself loses that inertia so it is more susceptible to spikes and failures because of small events. Batteries are able to synthesize that inertia.