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If you care about climate change, this is a no-brainer.

Back in 2019, the year I bought my Tesla Model 3, Elon Musk was more nuisance than accused neo-Nazi. He released an offbeat autotuned rap song about Harambe the gorilla and was acquitted of defamation charges after calling a rescuer in the Thailand cave incident of being a “pedo guy.” Both events feel eons ago in internet time. They also feel ancient as part of the gradual progression of Tesla’s CEO from real-life Tony Stark to right-wing agitator and propagandist.
Lots of people who purchased Tesla EVs before Musk took off the mask are understandably miffed. Anyone who buys a Cybertruck and has been on the internet before should know they’re driving an extension of Elon’s id. But millions of people worldwide bought Teslas over the past several years with no intention of puttering around in a MAGA machine. The sentiment can be seen in the bumper stickers that now appear on Model 3s and Ys around blue states, declaring some version of “I bought it before Elon was crazy.” A new study in the Netherlands put a number to the notion: The survey found that one in three Tesla owners wants to unload their cars rather than continue to drive a vehicle associated with Musk.
This is a time when social media abounds with lists of companies to avoid because of their political stances and contributions; anyone who wants to vote with their wallet by not buying Tesla absolutely can and probably should buy some other carmaker’s EV instead (unless Tesla, which is slated to release its earning this week, winds up the last EV-maker standing). But don’t ditch your Model S or Y just to avoid driving around in an advertisement for his company.
I’ve thought a lot about this as a Model 3 owner for five-plus years. It’s not uncommon to meet someone who can’t wait to tell you they’d never buy a Tesla because of Musk’s politics or noxious behavior on X. Fair enough. But plenty of those people drive gas-only or hybrid vehicles. The oil company CEOs who make money selling gasoline and diesel have been far worse for the climate than Musk, even if his Trump-ward turn is closing the gap. They just know enough not to tweet. Or buy Twitter.
It certainly doesn’t make climate sense to dispose of a Tesla in favor of a non-EV. But even trading one in for another company’s EV just to get Musk out of your life is a bad deal. When you sell your car, it becomes somebody else’s car. That person inherits the symbolic weight of owning one of Musk’s products and takes over the Supercharging dole, paying Tesla for energy every time they need to charge away from home. More importantly, you’ll probably wind up purchasing a new EV that needed a reasonable amount of carbon emissions to create (not to mention water and other resources), and will need years of driving on cleaner energy to make up for it. What’s gained in virtue signaling is lost in carbon dioxide.
This personal conundrum is reminiscent of the macroeconomic controversy over fossil fuel divestment, where universities, companies, and other institutions have been pressured to rid themselves of investment that support coal, oil, and gas. In theory, selling off such assets is supposed to harm the fossil fuel industry. But as the Harvard Business Review writes: “What looks good on paper often falls short in practice. There’s one major problem with divestment: Selling an asset requires someone to buy it. In other words, for you to divest, someone else needs to invest.” Institutions get to pat themselves on the back and tell constituents they greened their portfolio, but the fossil fuel business carries on unchanged.
In fact, the Review directly compares divestment to the car problem. Companies, they say, should think about sunsetting their fossil fuel investments rather than selling immediately just to wash their hands of a dirty industry. It’s just like how driving an old car into the ground is better than selling it — since selling requires buying, and buying adds a new car to the roads.
So it goes for aging Teslas. You might feel a wave of satisfaction by selling off your Model Y and derive great pleasure from not having to think about Musk when you get in your car. But if, like me, you bought an electric car for climate reasons, and it just so happened that a Tesla was the most practical one you could get, then the best thing to do once it’s paid off is to keep it as long as it will run.
An owner can keep more of their money from lining Musk’s pocket by charging at home or at other companies’ DC fast-chargers instead of Superchargers, or by having the vehicle repaired and serviced by independent shops rather than by Tesla itself. But it is quite literally not worth it to sell your Tesla just to avoid having to explain to other people, or to yourself, why you drive one.
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New tariffs and price floors for imported polysilicon aim to protect U.S. producers from Chinese competition.
Almost exactly a month after President Donald Trump’s landmark tax law effectively eliminated a key incentive for solar developers to buy panels made in America, his administration is throwing a lifeline to manufacturers behind the nation’s fastest-growing and quickest-to-deploy source of electricity.
On Thursday afternoon, after the markets closed, the White House announced new tariffs and minimum import prices for imported polysilicon as part of an effort to prop up the domestic supply chain for the primary ingredient in semiconductors and solar panels.
The levies come in response to complaints from polysilicon makers that the dearth of U.S. factories demanding solar-grade polysilicon made it difficult to compete with Chinese giants who benefit from selling both the solar- and microchip-grade versions of the ultra-pure industrial material derived from quartz and sand. The companies made the petition under Section 232 of the Trade Expansion Act of 1962, which gives the White House the power to restrict imports and charge tariffs on imports that demonstrably impair national security.
The Trump administration will impose a 15% tariff on all imports and set baseline prices at which the levies would apply for each component in the solar supply chain. Polysilicon will have a minimum import price of $20 per kilogram. Wafers, the ultra-thin slice of crystalline silicon that acts as the foundation of a photovoltaic cell, and ingots, the silicon material before it’s sliced, will start at $100 per kilogram. Cells, the tiny silicon-based devices that absorb photons from sunlight and break away electrons that generate electrical currents, will have a minimum price of $0.22 per watt. Modules, the completed panels, are $0.38 a watt.
The majority of U.S. solar factories simply assemble wafers and cells into modules, leaving them reliant on imports. But the policy won’t hit all at once. The Commerce Department is giving companies 120 days before the restrictions kick in.
The agency will also set up an incentive program that allows manufacturers that make large capital investments in the U.S. to avoid the worst of the levies. Jeffrey Kessler, the Under Secretary of Commerce in charge of executing on 232 cases, pushed for the provision as a bid to avoid what happened when Europe attempted to protect its own solar manufacturers by setting a minimum import price meant to keep Chinese companies from flooding the market. That policy ended up subsidizing the very Chinese parent companies putting market domination ahead of profits back home.
Avoiding that outcome is tricky under any circumstances. China and the U.S. don’t have a tax treaty, which makes it difficult for American authorities to confirm a company’s ownership structure. The surest way to seal off the U.S. market is with 100% tariffs such as those imposed on Chinese electric vehicles.
In this case, the Commerce Department decided to allow companies with active plans to onshore the solar supply chain to apply for an exemption from the new trade rules. Ahead of the announcement, sources familiar with the talks listed South Korean giant Qcells, which just opened the nation’s largest integrated solar factory in Georgia, as one obvious example of a company that would pass muster.
Solar manufacturers applauded the move. “Today’s decision from the White House balances the reality of where America’'s solar energy manufacturing is today while advancing our collective ambition to onshore the entire supply chain from polysilicon to finished panels in the U.S.,” Andy Park, the global CEO of Qcells, said in an emailed statement. “American solar manufacturers are ready to rise to the occasion.”
The trade action “creates a market where wafer and cell manufacturing can happen in the United States, and companies can go fully vertically integrated,” Nick Iacovella, the executive vice president of the Coalition for a Prosperous America, a bipartisan trade association that represents manufacturing companies at every stage of the polysilicon supply chain, told Heatmap.
“What this does is cement a key input in the supply chain that’s critical not just for chips, but for the most efficient, best-performing solar modules,” he said. “We shore up our chip supply chain at a time when there is a greater urgency to derisk from China invading Taiwan — and also during a time when the AI data center boom is driving massive demand for new energy generation, with solar driving a lot of the new capacity coming onto the grid.”
The levies come a week after the Federal Communications Commission banned the use of new types of foreign-made inverters, the equipment needed to patch solar panels onto the grid. Analysts said the ban would have a limited effect on the solar industry, since it allows for the current models on the market to be sold. The purpose of that policy is to prop up domestic factories at a moment when Europe, despite its struggle to reindustrialize, is experiencing an inverter manufacturing boom.
Despite those intentions, multiple industry sources who spoke on condition of anonymity told Heatmap that trade restrictions alone would likely prove insufficient to prop up a domestic solar supply chain at the scale needed to minimize imports.
The latest data from the Rhodium Group found that new U.S. investments in solar factories peaked from the second half of 2022 through the first quarter of 2025. During that time, as Emily reported in May, the announced projects averaged more than $2 billion per quarter. At least 30 new utility-scale solar factories opened across the U.S. just last year.
Since then, development has plummeted. Investment in new solar factories announced fell to about $350 million in the first quarter of 2026, a drop of more than 80%.
By raising the price of panels overall, the Commerce Department is providing a particular boon to America’s leading solar manufacturer, First Solar. While the Phoenix-based panel-maker’s thin-film cell technology doesn’t use polysilicon, the price hike from the tariffs will give the company an edge by allowing the company to either raise its prices to match new industry-wide benefits or undercut its competitors. Investors in the company told Heatmap its recent bookings average sales of about $0.36 per watt.
Another clear winner is T1 Energy, which Roth analysts say “would eventually be a beneficiary once it ramps up its U.S. cell manufacturing, which is now expected to come online” next year. The company’s share price spiked more than 10% in after-hours trading, while First Solar was up more than 8%.
“There are a lot of people in the administration who support solar,” Iacovella said. “They just don’t want a bunch of Chinese solar panels.”
Still, he added, “this is all about the chip supply chain.” While the benefits to solar are welcome, “this is a two-for-one.”
The Trump administration has signed a deal with RWE, a German developer, to cancel more than 3 gigawatts of offshore wind near New York and New Jersey.
This is an edition of Heatmap Daily, an evening review of the day’s news written by our executive editor. Sign up for it here.
There goes another one. The German energy developer RWE has signed a $1.2 billion deal with the Trump administration to give up its claims to develop offshore wind farms in New York, California, and Louisiana. The Trump administration has now bought out 12 offshore wind leases, paying energy developers $3.93 billion for the privilege of not developing renewable energy along the American coastline.
Today’s is the largest payout yet — and fittingly so, I suppose, because it is among the most damaging. As part of the deal, RWE abandoned its plans to build a more than 3-gigawatt offshore wind farm in the New York Bight. When RWE first leased that site in 2022, it paid $1.1 billion for it — the biggest offshore wind lease auction ever held in the United States.
RWE promised that the resulting facility, dubbed Community Offshore Wind, would generate 700 jobs and $3 billion in local economic activity. It would have been close enough to New Jersey and New York that its power could have flowed to either state, although no final power contract was ever signed. Now all of that is kaput.
In the eyes of some critics, RWE had overpaid for that lease — and in that context, the Trump administration has I suppose done the German developer a favor, bailing them out from a bad investment in a legally dubious manner. (New York’s attorney general is suing to block a similar payout to Total Energies.)
But even beyond that context, there remains one big problem with these deals — an issue even more glaring now than when Trump started targeting wind projects last year. It is that the United States — and especially the Northeast, and especially New York — needs as much electricity as it can get right now. The Trump administration is striving to bring new power demand online in the form of data centers, but cutting off new sources of generation if they fail to meet its aesthetic standards.
Anticipating this sensitivity, RWE’s press statement announcing the deal goes on to list major energy projects that it’s committed to in the United States. These projects all involve, coincidentally (or not), fossil fuels: They include a $900 million stake in a Louisiana liquified natural gas export terminal and a $300 million reservation for new natural gas turbines. (RWE implies, but doesn’t say outright, that it will build 15 natural gas peaker plants with these turbines.) When we asked for more details about these projects, and whether we should anticipate anything new, RWE immediately got back to us: “We are unable to discuss further details on the investments.”
Yet as RWE well knows, these projects won’t help solve a coming energy shortage in New York or New England. For one, the Louisiana LNG export terminal is, well, an export terminal: It will help move energy out of the country, not generate more of it at home. Those exports might boost Americans’ fortunes in a vague, long-term, balance-of-payments way, but they won’t keep a lid on anyone’s power bills (which, by the way, just hit an all-time high). More importantly, the 15 peaker plants that RWE cites are largely going to be built … in other regions of the country. If the lights go out on Houston Street, a new gas plant in Houston can’t help.
Americans paid $217 on average for electricity last month, according to Heatmap and MIT’s Electricity Price Hub.
July is typically the season of high electricity bills, and this year is no exception.
Nationally, the average electricity bill spiked to $217, an all-time high, according to new data from Heatmap and MIT’s Electricity Price Hub. That’s up from $177 in June, and $215 last July. Meanwhile, electricity rates were 19 cents per kilowatt-hour, virtually unchanged from June and slightly higher than July of last year.
Throughout the country, many ratepayers are seeing higher costs and charges in the portion of their bill covering the cost of power generation.
Once again, some of the most notable electricity price and bill trends were seen in the mid-Atlantic region, the heart of the data center boom and the anchor area of the PJM Interconnection. The region also includes Virginia, where Florida utility and energy developer NextEra is attempting to acquire the commonwealth’s dominant utility, Dominion.
In July, Dominion customers saw typical generation charges rise to $155 a month, up from $124 a year ago. Overall bills for Dominion customers were about $259 this past month.
The higher bills are in part due to the “fuel charge rider” that went into effect this past month to help recover about $1 billion in additional generation costs claimed by the utility. Those charges stem in part from higher fuel costs this past winter, when natural gas prices spiked to their highest level since the winter of 2022-23, Dominion officials said in a filing to the state’s utilities regulator. The MIT researchers estimate that the fuel charge added around $53 to July bills, up $12 from July of last year.
In neighboring Delaware, bills were $216 a month in July, a record high, while prices were around 19 cents per kilowatt-hour. Customers of the state’s main utility, Delmarva Power, saw a near 20% hike in the supply charge in their standard service offerings, as prices rose from around 16 cents per kilowatt-hour from last year.
The Delaware Public Service Commission voted at the beginning of last month to allow an interim rate increase of about $3 per month for the typical customer, which went into effect July 9. Soon after, Delaware Governor Matt Meyer signed a law giving the state’s regulators more discretion to reject putting certain utility costs into the rate base and thus limit subsequent price hikes requested by utilities. The governor’s office described the law as a mechanism “to prioritize prudent spending over unchecked cost recovery.”