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The hot hatch is a car enthusiast’s car. Neither garage tinkerer nor street racer can resist a practical hatchback stuffed with enough power to push your brains back into the headrest and handling to outdrive cars that cost twice as much. At last, the category’s standard-bearer, the Volkswagen GTI, is drifting into its electrified future. VW has revealed the ID.GTI Concept, a preview of the fully battery-powered GTI to come a few years down the line.
With the GTI EV en route, we can cross off the hot hatch as a car category without an electric champion. The arrival of the Rivian R1T and Ford F-150 Lightning have put full battery-powered pickups into America’s hypercompetitive truck market. Yet even as automakers turn over their lineups to include more and more EV versions of the gas cars they’ve always built, there are still glaring holes — car categories where nary an EV has arisen, and models that demand to become an EV. Here are some electrics on its way, and some that should be.

The Rivian R1T is a dream machine, every bit the shimmering, LED-laden pickup truck of the future that lots of people expected from Elon Musk before he revealed, well, something else. The truck’s R1S counterpart packages the same guts into an SUV form that’s more practical for some. But both come with an aspirational price to go with their aspirational design. The starting prices near $70,000 leave lots of Rivian fans out in the cold, waiting for the company to debut an offering within reach.
The EV startup’s R2 platform aims to support a smaller and less expensive, but still rugged and capable, pickup truck and SUV. In an interview with Heatmap earlier this year, Rivian CEO R.J. Scaringe said the company wants to roll out the new vehicles in 2026 at a price of $40,000 to $45,000.

Other 4x4s can pose on a boulder or traverse a trail that’s turned to muck, but none have the old-time military looks and mechanics that make the Wrangler iconic. Updating a legend is always tricky. In 2021, Jeep went halfway to electrifying the Wrangler, creating the 4xe plug-in hybrid that Car & Driver derided as a “science fair project.”
This time around, no half-measures. For the 2024 model year, Jeep is slated to release a true Wrangler EV for the enthusiast who seeks an emissions-free way to terrorize the environment. In truth, lots of people who occasionally — or never — drive off-road own a Wrangler because, simply, they fell in love with it. Transforming the One True Jeep into an EV will make bombing around the urban jungle a little easier on the wallet as well as the atmosphere.
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VW struck a countercultural nerve when, in 2017, it unveiled the concept of an electrified VW Microbus and made flower power aspirants everywhere say, “shut up and take my money.” This, of course, is not your grandmother’s hippie wagon. To bring the bus into the 21st century VW ditched the underdog, fix-it-yourself ethos of the original for a whiz-bang software-controlled EV that costs north of $40,000. But damn if it isn’t cute.
ID.Buzz recently made its American debut, and is finally going on sale in the U.S. as a 2025 model. What the world needs now is Buzz, sweet Buzz — read Heatmap’s coverage for more.

We need a fun little EV. The original Fiat 500e tried to deliver on that by putting a battery in the beloved city car, but that electrified taste of Italy could barely top 80 miles of range and was discontinued a few years back.
The newer, better version currently driving around the roads of Europe is coming to America in 2024 and should be able to offer twice as many miles per charge, at around 160. That pales in comparison to the numbers that new big EVs can deliver (hey, you can only cram so much battery into a microcar). But if you’re an urban dweller with an eye for style, it’s enough to get by.

Wait long enough and lots of iconic performance cars — the Alfa Romeo Giulia, the Dodge Charger Daytona — will go electric. Not just to keep with the times, but also to take advantage of the instantaneous torque available from an electric motor that makes EVs zip off the line. In terms of hype, though, it’s still the Corvette that matters most.
The launch of every new Corvette is, well, a whole to-do. That’s doubly true now, because a Corvette EV is coming perhaps as soon as 2025 and may produce ridiculous power numbers. In addition, it may bring with it an entire sub-brand of Corvette-branded cars that don’t say “Chevy” anywhere, including a spicy crossover SUV.

Nobody can be told what Canoo is. You have to see the EV startup’s very rounded concept truck and van — which look like police vehicles mocked up for an episode of Black Mirror — for yourself.
The future pod of a van, called the Canoo Lifestyle Vehicle, bucks convention as often as possible. On the outside, its styling is like nothing else. On the inside, for example, its seating can be shifted so occupants face one another or move to make a ton of empty floor space.
Amid a sea of vehicles that all look the same, the Canoo’s over-the-top quirkiness earned plenty of early devotees and aspirant buyers. Whether they’ll actually get to part with their cash in exchange for the vehicles is another matter entirely: Canoo has endured corporate restructuring and, while it has managed to produce a few vehicles for clients such as NASA, it is always close to running out of money before it gets around to selling cars to people.

Once upon a time, $35,000 was the magic number — the mark Tesla would hit with its unicorn affordable EV that became the Model 3. While few people navigated the hurdles necessary to actually get one that cheap, the entry-level Model 3s like mine got close.
Now the whispers conjure a $25,000 Tesla, one that would truly put EVs in line with the most affordable gas-burning vehicles. CEO Elon Musk teased the possibility in 2020 and pegged the promised price to the possibility of slashing battery production costs.
Tesla famously enjoys the whooshing sound deadlines make as they fly by, so the $25k model may be several years away — especially since we have no idea what it would look like. But if Musk and company roll out a compact sedan or hatchback with 250 miles of range at anything close to that price, Tesla may not be able to keep them in stock.

Let me tell you the car journalist’s mantra: Actually, minivans are good. When I was an editor at Popular Mechanics, the test-drivers would race to the defense of the minivan: Unlike the high-riding crossover that replaced it as this century’s de facto kid-mover, the minivan rides lower to the ground like a car, and those iconic sliding doors and removable seats make it easy to load and unload stuff.
Nevertheless, the SUV has left the much-maligned minivan in the dust. The people’s champion for electrified minivan drivers has been the Chrysler Pacifica plug-in hybrid, which delivers just 32 miles of electric-only range but is the only PHEV vehicle in its class. The good news for minivan loyalists: Chrysler is committed to electrifying its lineup, which means a full EV Pacifica is probably in the works.
(The ID.Buzz and Canoo are, arguably, modern reinventions of the form, but they feel so far removed from the archetype of the American minivan as to be in their own category.)

Let me now tell you the car journalist’s other mantra: Actually, the Miata is good. Like the minivan, the Miata was slandered by ‘90s popular culture as too wimpy, too effeminate. Just like the Minivan, the Miata is actually delightful to drive and beloved by the people who test vehicles for a living.
Mazda hit a home run with the excellent current Miata, which it has been making since 2015. But the brand has been among the slowest to adopt electric powertrains, so a true Miata EV (unless you have the engineering chops to convert one to battery power) remains many years away. The next Miata will be “electrified,” but to what extent — whether this means a hybrid or a true EV — is unknown.

Once represented by classic vehicles like the Ford Ranger and Chevy S-10, America’s small truck market grew critically endangered when pickups became super-luxury vehicles that can cost north of $50,000. Ford struck a blow for the reasonably-sized utilitarian truck when it introduced the Maverick to slot into its lineup below the Ranger (which has grown to mid-size in the intervening years) and promptly sold a ton of the little trucks.
No battery-powered small pickup has yet come along, but when it does, the Maverick Lightning, Ranger Lightning, or whatever it is will find a horde of happy buyers.
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The state’s crystal clear lakes are turning into the Reflecting Pool.
Life is a constant process of dying — even for lakes. For Lake Kanasatka, a 350-acre body of water born when the glaciers raked their retreat into the bedrock of what is now New Hampshire, everything nearly came to an end in 2023.
The first sign that something was wrong appeared in 2009. That November, the state’s Department of Environmental Services noticed a “green scum” in the water near Camp Quinebarge Beach. Over the next few years, the DES continued to dutifully report the emergence of “greenish slime” along the shoreline until, in August 2020, the concentration reached a level that prompted the lake’s first warning of a toxic algae bloom.
In recent years, many lake-loving Americans have added that term — “toxic algae bloom” — to their summer lexicon. It’s also a bit of a misnomer: the culprit, cyanobacteria, are not technically algae but ubiquitous single-celled microorganisms, their photosynthetic chlorophyll and an additional pigment giving them the blue-green appearance suggested by their name. “They’ve been around forever,” Amanda McQuaid, a water quality ecotoxicologist at the University of New Hampshire and director of the school’s citizen-science lake monitoring program, told me. “I personally think they’re probably on Mars. I think they’re everywhere. They’re indestructible.”
Cyanobacteria are present across habitats, from the Sahara dust in Africa to the shelves of our grocery stores to the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool in Washington, D.C. (The Trump Administration can attest firsthand to their indestructibility.) What transforms a healthy concentration of cyanobacteria in a lake into a bloom is access to nutrients — specifically phosphorus, which enters lakes via runoff from fertilized lawns or farms, leaky septic tanks, pet waste, and eroding shorelines. As lakeside living has increased in desirability and housing development has encroached on natural bodies of water, blooms have consequently followed.
Though the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention does not keep an official count of cyanobacterial blooms, a conservative estimate puts the number of advisories issued nationally in the hundreds, and more likely in the thousands, every year. Cyanobacteria are a class of organisms with thousands of species, like plants, but many produce toxins as part of their metabolic processes. These toxins are numerous and include microcystin, which affects the liver and can cause skin irritation and gastrointestinal problems upon contact with swimmers and waders, as well as anatoxin, a neurotoxin that can kill a dog within minutes of it lapping up contaminated lake water on a hot summer day.
Most alarming, though, is that many cyanobacteria also produce the neurotoxin BMAA, which can become airborne and which researchers have connected to neurodegenerative diseases in humans. According to another study by Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center neurologist Elijah Stommel, people living within a half-mile radius of cyanobacterially contaminated lakes had a 2.3-times greater risk of developing the devastating and terminal nervous system disease ALS compared to the rest of the population. In the case of one contaminated lake near Enfield, New Hampshire, the incidence of sporadic ALS was 10 to 25 times above what was to be expected. And in a state like New Hampshire, which was gouged by the glacial retreat at the end of the last ice age, nearly 80% of residents live within half a mile of some body of water.
Scuzzy green water occurs in every state in the country. Nationally, the Environmental Protection Agency detected the telltale microcystin toxin in 39% of U.S. lakes in a 2012 survey; by the EPA’s most recent survey, in 2022, that number had risen to 50%. Still, in places like New Hampshire, cyanobacterial blooms are a relatively new phenomenon, having recently intensified due to increased development and climate change. “People are not used to going to a lake in New Hampshire and not being able to see through the water,” McQuaid said. “So if things are green or scummy or turbid, they’re like, ‘What is happening?’”
Between 2001 and 2008, Andrea LaMoreaux worked for the state’s Department of Environmental Services, running a water-quality testing program. She told me that during that time, she saw only one lake with a cyanobacterial bloom. But by 2015, blooms had become a topic of conversation in the state, and by 2023, just three years after its first toxic algae advisory, Lake Kanasatka was in a full-blown crisis.
“This is a lake that had a reputation for always being pristine — a very quiet lake,” state Representative Rosemarie Rung, who represents nearby Merrimack and owns a seasonal cottage on Kanasatka, told me. But 2023 was markedly different: the bloom was bad enough to dissuade recreation for weeks on end — in the “Live Free or Die” state, the DES doesn’t close beaches, even due to blooms. One woman described the feeling of her lips going numb while kayaking.
Kanasatka had crossed a tipping point. As part of a lake’s natural aging process, organic debris settles on its floor and decomposes, eventually consuming all the oxygen in the water. When that happens, phosphorus normally bound to iron in the sediment is released into the water — where it in turn provides extra nutrients for cyanobacteria. While human-caused inputs like runoff might previously have limited the cyanobacteria, lake anoxia offers them a firehose of nutrients to feast upon.
The tipping point is around 10 parts per billion of phosphorus in the water; in Kanasatka in 2023, there was around 200 parts per billion. “All of a sudden, [Kanasatka residents] woke up one morning and literally almost overnight, it looked like someone had dumped Mountain Dew into the lake,” LaMoreaux, the former DES employee who now serves as the president of NH Lakes, a statewide nonprofit lake conservation and advocacy group, told me.
Left untreated, Kanasatka would have slowly suffocated, with dead cyanobacteria adding to the decomposing organic matter at the bottom of the lake and blocking light to lake plants, making the anoxia worse. But there is one reliable way to treat a cyanobacteria bloom: with alum.
Phosphorus breaks apart from iron in the absence of oxygen, but it binds permanently with aluminum. An alum treatment, then, involves coating the lake bottom with an aluminum-heavy chemical concoction and is one of the only ways out of the slimy green cyanobacterial feedback loop. But so-called “biomanipulation” also has unknown downsides — including potentially spurring cyanobacteria to release more toxins as they rupture — and it isn’t cheap, either, running about $500,000 in the case of Lake Kanasatka. Rung, who helped create a $2 million cyanobacteria mitigation fund to support alum treatments across the state, told me it helped with Kanasatka’s treatment and “another alum treatment for a lake in Littleton, New Hampshire, which also had suffered very severe chronic blooms. But then the money ran out.”
But while Kanasatka today is the state’s poster child for algae blooms — it appears healthy two years out from its treatment, although alum only lasts about two or three decades — it wasn’t a one-off, either. During the COVID-19 pandemic, many people moved to New Hampshire’s lakes to work remotely, fertilizing new lawns and cutting down shoreline brush to better enjoy their views in the process. That’s sped up the encroachment of cyanobacteria across one of the country’s healthiest lake systems.
There is another powerful factor driving the blooms, and it is out of New Hampshirites’ hands alone. Climate change supercharges cyanobacteria blooms, with a strong correlation between hotter, sunnier summers and high concentrations of the warm-water-loving, photosynthetic microorganisms. Even more crucially in a state like New Hampshire, milder winters mean fewer weeks of ice cover on its lakes — cover that essentially acts as a “reset” by depriving cyanobacteria of sunlight. And heavier rains and flooding in New Hampshire, phenomena that greater water retention in a warmer atmosphere makes possible, mean greater runoff into the lakes and a firehose of food for the waiting microorganisms.
Unchecked, cyanobacteria pose a threat not just to human and animal life, but to the lives of recreation-based towns and economies. “I know anecdotally that people who have rented a lake house for a week or so, and there’s been a bloom, have been very, very angry,” Rung, the state representative, said. “They’ve tried to get out of that rental and get their money back, and there has not been guidance on what to do. Pretty much, they’re out of luck.”
But political will and funding challenges are real — Rung tried and failed to create a lake-lovers vanity plate to help pay for future mitigation treatments, and a recent deadline to create a task force to identify other funding sources expired with no progress.
“People don’t even want to say the word climate change in New Hampshire,” Rung told me in frustration. “Even the terminology triggers people, but it can’t be ignored. We’re just a small state. We don’t have a big population. We can’t do anything about it. But yet, we’re suffering the consequences.”
On Texas data centers, Microsoft’s carbon removal, and cross-border aluminum
Current conditions: Dangerous degrees of wildfire smoke swept into the Pacific Northwest, leaving air quality in fire-struck Spokane, Washington, at very unhealthy levels through midweek • Yesterday’s thunderstorms across the Northeast grounded flights and delayed thousands of passengers as key airports in New York City, New Jersey, and New England halted incoming arrivals for hours • Temperatures in Abu Dhabi are soaring to nearly 110 degrees Fahrenheit all week.

Europe’s rivers are running dry amid the prolonged drought and third major heat wave this summer. On Monday, the Rhine River’s water levels dropped to their lowest level in nearly 150 years, beaching cargo barges and jeopardizing output from the various thermal power plants that line the waterway stretching through France, Germany, and Switzerland. The water levels at Kaub, a key crossing for vessels heading to southern Germany and Switzerland, fell to 24 centimeters, the lowest level since records started in 1880, according to a Bloomberg analysis of German federal data compiled by the university ETH Zurich. In Eastern Europe, the Danube’s flow is so depleted that just one reactor at Hungary’s only nuclear station, the four-unit Paks plant, is operating — and only at 50% as cooling water dwindles, NucNet reported.
In Washington State, meanwhile, nearly 65,000 people have now been evacuated from the wildfires that incinerated almost 700 homes in the Spokane area with a “wall of flames.” As of Monday evening, the fire was still 0% contained, according to Fox 13 Seattle, a local broadcaster.
You might not think it, given the partisan politics of our age, but the governors of New York and Texas actually have a lot in common. New York Governor Kathy Hochul is a Democrat, and Texas’ Greg Abbott is a Republican. But they’re both pro-nuclear. They’re both up for reelection this year. And they’re both banning data centers, at least temporarily. Last month, New York became the first state to halt permitting on new, large data centers for a year. Now Texas has put approvals for new data centers on hold until the state’s power regulators and grid managers can audit existing facilities that are seeking to connect to the state’s grid. Until then, E&E News reported, “no more additional data centers can be approved or move forward until that process is over.” In a letter to both the Public Utility Commission of Texas and the Electric Reliability Council of Texas, Abbott wrote: “Any project that fails to comply with the requirements set forth by the PUC and ERCOT, and by state law, must be denied connection to the Texas grid. Simply put, Texans must come first.” On the local level, moratoriums on data centers blossomed in recent months, with more than 530 municipalities having slapped new restrictions on server farms, per a recent Heatmap analysis my colleague Robinson Meyer wrote.
Hochul, as our colleague Matthew Zeitlin wrote later last month, is “walking a fine line” with her moratorium, issued via executive order, especially as her administration seeks to appease renewables boosters who say she isn’t doing enough to speed up deployments of that kind of infrastructure. But blocking disfavored types of infrastructure is nothing new for the Texas GOP. Lieutenant Governor Dan Patrick is among the big names now trying to thwart a $33 billion transmission buildout in the state.
Back in April, Rob broke news that Microsoft was pausing its carbon removal purchases. The break marked a major setback for a nascent industry that had come to rely on the tech giant as its biggest and deepest-pocketed source of demand. While the company never confirmed the pause, it appears to be ending. Last night, my colleague Emily Pontecorvo passed along a big exclusive for this newsletter: Microsoft is set to announce a big carbon removal purchase. CREW Carbon, the Brooklyn-based startup that permanently traps carbon dioxide using a limestone and wastewater mix, inked an offtake agreement with Microsoft for 23,602 “durable, verified” credits. CREW “uses strategically-sourced alkaline minerals, such as calcium carbonate, to optimize key conditions, like pH and alkalinity, in each wastewater treatment plant’s specific process to minimize the carbon footprint of plant operations,” the company said in a press release shared in advance with Emily.
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As my colleague Katie Brigham reported last week, Commonwealth Fusion Systems made waves in the clean energy financing world for yet again raising an eye-popping $1 billion to commercialize fusion energy, notably bringing on institutional investors for the first time. Now another fission startup is bringing in a similar chunk of coin. California-based Valar Atomics just pulled in $1 billion to help bring its next-generation high-temperature gas-cooled microreactors to market. The venture capital giant Sequoia led the round, and added the firm’s Shaun Maguire to its board.
Even with progress on nuclear, the future for gas continues to look rosy. On Monday, Utility Dive reported that American Electric Power now has 13 gigawatts of gas turbine capacity in the pipeline.
Zerluma, a Mexican aluminum recycler, has broken ground on a new $50 million facility in Mission, Texas, the San Antonio Business Journal reported. The deal in the city near Texas’ southern border, marks one of the largest private investments in the city’s history, according to the Rio Grande Valley Business Journal.
The agreement comes as the Trump administration seeks to support the opening of the first new American aluminum smelter in half a century, a project that — as you may recall — has attracted scrutiny from state Republicans in Oklahoma. The effort is facing yet more criticism. The Muscogee Nation’s National Council voted unanimously to approve a resolution opposing aluminum smelters on tribal land following the Trump-backed proposal for a $4 billion plant by Emirates Global Aluminum. Last month, city leaders in Port of Inola approved a 60-day moratorium on smelter-related construction, according to the Tulsa broadcaster News On 6.
The United Kingdom has a coke problem: The snortable white stuff is too good and too cheap. So, what is a criminal enterprise that needs something tradeable of high value to do? Well, increasingly, they’re going for gold. Illegal gold mining has replaced cocaine as organized crime’s most profitable business, according to Mining.com. That has grave implications for human rights — and for communities in places such as the Amazon.
Even though he is partially responsible for them.
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.
Welcome to August — which, as the political commentator Josh Barro once observed, is the year’s “stupidest news month.” Because Congress goes on recess around this time of year, and so many other Americans go on vacation, “the quantity of serious news structurally declines,” and we journalists have to turn to sillier stories in order to fill the space.
I couldn’t help but think of that post today. As my colleague Matthew Zeitlin covered last week, oil companies recently had a blowout quarter. Last week, Chevron reported its best quarterly earnings result ever, while Exxon announced its largest profit in four years. None of this was a surprise: The Iran war and the Strait of Hormuz’s closure sent oil prices soaring around the world in the spring, making the supermajors’ domestic refinery business especially profitable. Despite its big result, Exxon actually underperformed Wall Street’s expectations — that’s how expected all of this was.
Still, though — the oil companies benefited from a supply shock that was hurting everyone else in the economy. Although this kind of volatility is part and parcel of the commodities business — it is part of what makes commodities so enticing to investors — it is, at the very least, not a good look. And in times like these, progressive policymakers will sometimes call for a windfall profits tax, a one-time levy on large and unexpected profits arising from a situation outside a company’s control. (Centrists and conservatives tend to prefer making different reforms to the tax system that tax “supernormal” profits.)
The United States last imposed a windfall profits tax on oil companies in the 1970s, but other countries still use them today: The U.K. implemented one after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine drove up gas prices in 2022, as did a handful of European countries. More recently, Senator Sheldon Whitehouse of Rhode Island and Representative Ro Khanna of California proposed a windfall tax after gasoline prices shot up in March.
I wouldn’t have counted President Trump among Whitehouse’s and Khanna’s number. Yet speaking to reporters from the Oval Office today, Trump said the oil companies were “making too much money” from the Strait of Hormuz closure.
“Chevron, too much money. ExxonMobil, too much money,” the president said. “When you look at one company where they made 12 times what they made the year before, they ought to give some of that back to the public … And they better cut the retail price, the consumer price.”
He noted that many reporters looked “surprised” he was saying it, but reiterated he “wasn’t happy.”
Now, the president hasn’t quite called for a windfall profits tax — he seems to have something more voluntary in mind. Yet given Trump’s fealty to the industry in virtually every other context, his comments are striking and make his political judgement around the war all the more perplexing. The president chose to go to war with Iran — and the almost certain outcome of that conflict, in any world, was going to be higher oil prices. If anything, the war has moved crude less than analysts would have thought. What was Trump expecting here?
I don’t expect these remarks to usher in some new era of Trumpian policy or politics — this is probably just another silly August story. But they reflect how much the politics of energy have changed since President Trump took office in January 2025. Americans know it, Democrats know it, and President Trump knows it too.