You’re out of free articles.
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
Sign In or Create an Account.
By continuing, you agree to the Terms of Service and acknowledge our Privacy Policy
Welcome to Heatmap
Thank you for registering with Heatmap. Climate change is one of the greatest challenges of our lives, a force reshaping our economy, our politics, and our culture. We hope to be your trusted, friendly, and insightful guide to that transformation. Please enjoy your free articles. You can check your profile here .
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Subscribe to get unlimited Access
Hey, you are out of free articles but you are only a few clicks away from full access. Subscribe below and take advantage of our introductory offer.
subscribe to get Unlimited access
Offer for a Heatmap News Unlimited Access subscription; please note that your subscription will renew automatically unless you cancel prior to renewal. Cancellation takes effect at the end of your current billing period. We will let you know in advance of any price changes. Taxes may apply. Offer terms are subject to change.
Create Your Account
Please Enter Your Password
Forgot your password?
Please enter the email address you use for your account so we can send you a link to reset your password:

Maybe you remember the time before the “basic economy” fare. A ticket on a major airline like Delta or United used to come with a few automatic amenities, like the ability to choose one’s seats — or, before 2008, even to check a bag without a fee. In the 2010s, facing rising costs and competition from the likes of Spirit and Frontier, the big airlines began to embrace the a la carte approach of the budget airlines: Passengers could buy an uber-cheap fare, but anything beyond a seat on the plane and a Diet Coke became an upsell.
The trajectory of air travel was on my mind this week as the world learned more details about Slate. The EV startup backed by Amazon founder Jeff Bezos, among others, revealed its compact electric pickup to the world, and the world was struck by the vehicle’s simplicity. The little truck represents a kind of bare-bones transportation not seen at American car dealerships in decades, with power windows and plain metal panels coming standard — and everything else as an add-on.
Its success or failure will tell us something about Americans’ appetite for the kind of truly compact trucks that disappeared from our roads when bloat came for the pickup. It will tell us even more about whether Americans, faced with a lousy economy and skyrocketing car prices, are ready for the Spirit Airlines model to come to the automotive world.
Slate’s name is a clear reference to the idea of a blank slate. The base version of the little electric truck comes with manually adjustable rear view mirrors, no built-in infotainment system, and an uninspiring 150 miles of range. The exterior comes in any color the customer wants, as long as it’s the hue of plain, unadorned metal.
The little truck’s pitch is about the power of customization. Buyers will be able to choose from more than 100 add-on features, including roll bars, more airbags, and extra seats. There will be kits to lower the truck, kits to raise the truck, kits to turn the truck into an SUV. Most of these additions are advertised as DIY, though once the truck arrives in 2026, Slate promises there will be service professionals to install these add-ons for those who are not weekend garage mechanics. You’ll even be able to put on a vinyl wrap to make your truck something other than gray. Just how much these additions will raise the price is not yet clear.
It’s a compelling case, and one meant to be the antithesis of the car industry’s modern approach. A typical new vehicle comes in a handful of trim levels, where each successive trim represents another tier that adds a new group of luxury or technology features. (This is what the alphabet soup on the back of a car means, if you’ve ever wondered just what Toyota RAV4 “XLE” is.) The Ford F-150, the best-selling vehicle in the country, comes in eight trim levels that take the truck from a base price around $38,000 to nearly $80,000 for the fanciest, most capable trucks. You can do some customization outside of those tiers, sure. What you can’t do is buy a brand-new F-150 for $25,000 because it comes with the best in-car amenities 1995 had to offer, even though such a vehicle would do a perfectly good job of transporting people and cargo from A to B, the thing a truck is supposed to do.
Today’s cars come in mostly neutral colors because buyers have been taught to maximize resale value and it’s easier to sell a silver truck than a teal one; Slate’s encouragement to customize the exterior is a reaction against this aesthetic staleness. And EVs, in particular, haven’t been built with the hacker or tinkerer in mind. With Tesla (led by Bezos rival Elon Musk) at the forefront of the industry and legacy automakers following its lead, electric vehicles have become smartphones on wheels — closed boxes of intimidating hardware and proprietary software. Slate is a welcome change.
One could, of course, pay for upgrades to make the flight aboard Spirit Airlines a little more tolerable. But the cheap fare is the point. Spirit may be the butt of “Weekend Update” jokes, but basic economy is a lifeline for people who need cheap air travel. The test for Slate, then, isn’t whether buyers will embrace its DIY model and get excited about configuring their own trucks, though some definitely will. It is, instead, whether the rock-bottom, dirt-cheap, simple version of the truck is enough to convince a lot of people to go electric.
Incentives will go a long way to providing the answer. With a sticker price in the mid-$20,000s, a barebones Slate truck is a tough sell compared directly to other new vehicles; its spartan interior and inferior range don’t compare well to the kinds of entry-level gasoline cars a person could buy in that price range, all of which offer at least a taste of the latest in automotive technology. But if the $7,500 federal tax credit were to stay in place despite the EV antagonist living the White House, then the basic Slate will be a new car that can be had for less than 20-grand.
That’s a tempting number for the many Americans who see their car as an appliance, not an extension of their personality, and who generally make automotive decisions with their wallets. It’s also a powerful example of how much difference incentives could make once EVs approach the affordable end of the car market. A Rivian with $7,500 knocked off is a slightly cheaper expensive car. A Chevy Equinox EV at $7,500 off is cost-competitive with combustion rivals. A Slate truck marked down by $7,500 goes from an ugly duckling to an economic lifeline for the countless Americans who need an affordable ride.
Log in
To continue reading, log in to your account.
Create a Free Account
To unlock more free articles, please create a free account.
The spinoff of Lawrence Livermore National Lab has a new 10-point plan to get onto the grid by the 2030s.
One of fusion energy’s newest startups, Inertia Enterprises, is betting that the fastest route to commercial fusion runs through one of the field’s oldest ideas. The company, which raised a $450 million Series A earlier this year, plans to build a power plant based on the laser-driven fusion system pioneered at Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory’s — the only tech yet to have produced more energy from a fusion reaction than it took to initiate it. Now, Inertia has shared its commercialization roadmap exclusively with Heatmap, detailing the 10 near-term capabilities it must demonstrate before this landmark experiment can become a grid-scale power plant by the mid-2030s.
The roadmap offers a route from the national lab’s impressive but commercially impractical fusion demonstrations to an economical power plant capable of producing electricity for the grid. At its core are a set of milestones — mostly aimed at developing cheap, mass-manufacturable components — that Inertia says it must clear before those individual systems can be integrated into a working plant. This road is not necessarily linear, however, as various teams will likely be working on many of these goals simultaneously.
At least the physics of Inertia’s approach are already proven, the startup’s CEO Jeff Lawson told me, pointing to the fusion experiments at Lawrence Livermore’s National Ignition Facility as a proof-of-concept. The lab’s demonstration of net energy gain caps more than six decades and $30 billion (in 2026 dollars) of U.S. fusion research. The remaining challenges, he argued, are all engineering-related, requiring “elbow grease, hard work, and smart people” rather than breakthroughs in fusion science.
"It seems to us like a startup or a commercial company of any variety should be focused on commercializing a proven scientific result, as opposed to actually trying to demonstrate the basic science to begin with," Lawson told me. Basic science, he argues, is better left to national labs and universities, where researchers can pursue "unbounded problems" that don’t align with the expectations and timelines of venture-backed startups.
Indeed, no fusion startup has yet achieved scientific breakeven, the milestone Lawrence Livermore first hit in 2022, and has since repeated numerous times. But leading players such as Commonwealth Fusion Systems and Helion Energy maintain that it’s only a matter of time before they validate the physics behind their own reactor designs, which they claim will be highly cost-competitive.
Lawson, on the other hand, readily acknowledged that Lawrence Livermore’s tech is uneconomical in its current form. His bet is simply that the more predictable path to a commercial reactor is to drive down the cost of the lab’s validated fusion approach, known as inertial confinement. This system relies on high-powered lasers firing at a millimeter-scale pellet of fusion fuel, compressing it to extreme temperatures and pressures until the atoms fuse. Today, the National Ignition Facility makes each individual fusion target by hand, a workable solution given that it only uses about a dozen per year.
That production model, however, isn’t remotely plausible for a grid-scale power plant. Because each fusion reaction lasts just a fraction of a billionth of a second, a commercial facility must fire its lasers at a fresh target about 10 times per second to generate continuous electricity — requiring the production of hundreds of millions of targets each year.
Scaling production to roughly a million pellets per day and making them inexpensive enough for commercial operation without compromising the strength or precision required for fusion ignition is central to Inertia’s roadmap. That includes goals five, seven, eight and nine — industrializing the manufacturing of the carbon shells that hold the fusion fuel, making the thin films that hold those carbon shells both durable and cheap, scaling up and automating fusion target assembly, and speeding up how fast targets are filled with the requisite deuterium-tritium fuel.
The other central focus of the roadmap is the laser system, which will ultimately consist of 1,000 individual units operating in concert to compress and heat the fusion fuel. Key priorities include reducing the system’s cost (goal two), dramatically increasing its firing cadence (goal three), and bolstering its durability to withstand high-intensity operations (goal four). Goal six also complements these efforts, calling for the development of a control system capable of tracking moving fusion targets to precisely align each laser shot.
Goals one and 10 bookend the journey with some broader milestones. The first focuses on increasing the fusion target’s energy gain — the ratio of fusion energy produced to laser energy delivered — to more than 25 times ignition. Today, the National Ignition Facility’s best-performing laser shot has yielded a gain of just over four times what it took to start the reaction. Goal 10 then zooms out to the ultimate objective: integrating all these technologies into a commercially viable power plant that can deliver either electricity or industrial heat to end customers.
To reach that point, Inertia has embarked on an industrial engineering hiring spree, recruiting folks with experience taking complex hardware systems from prototype to mass production, “not unlike the processes that are used in the semiconductor or consumer electronics world,” Lawson explained. The company has been making progress on its component development goals since the beginning of the year, he told me, and expects to announce the successful demonstration of a few of these milestones in the coming months. Lawson ultimately expects Inertia to complete the core components of its laser and target manufacturing systems by the middle of next year.
The team will spend the next two to three years integrating these individual pieces into two fully operational subsystems, a prototype laser system and a target manufacturing line. Around 2030, the company will begin combining those subsystems into a first-of-a-kind fusion power plant, which will also serve as the proving ground for the target chamber, tritium fuel breeding system, and power conversion system that turns fusion heat into electricity. By the middle of the next decade, Inertia aims to be generating power from this first plant, setting the stage for the company to build and connect additional grid-scale commercial power plants.
There are plenty of engineering trade-offs that the company will have to solve for. Take the decision around how to size the target chamber, for example. “If you make it bigger, your walls have an easier time and survive longer, but it’s more expensive. If you make it smaller, your walls have a tougher time because they’re closer to all the heat and energy that the fusion reaction is creating, but now your power plant costs less to build.”
But to Lawson, this represents exactly the type of problem Inertia was built to solve: complex engineering issues that come to the fore once scientists have demonstrated the fundamental physics are sound. He thinks other fusion companies may someday reach this stage, as well — though he’s unwilling to hazard a guess on exactly what approach or startup is best positioned to do so.
“There have been generations of scientists who’ve made their predictions about fusion energy and gotten it wrong,” he told me. “I’m not going to pretend to be smarter than them. All I’m here to say is, just knowing that one did work, we can commercialize it.”